Hannah's Hufflepuff Concerto
by Quilynn
Summary: Non-shipper. GOF. "A mage at Hogwarts is like a Malfoy at muggle school" was a common assumption in the wizarding world. Unfortunately for Hannah, it didn't quite turn out to be true...
1. The Letter

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

Because not all Hufflepuffs are boring. Set in the year of the Tri-Wizard Cup. Hannah Korvil, a young mage, is forced to go to a wizarding school against her will. Enter Dennis Creevy... let's sit back and see what happens, shall we?   
  
NOTE: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Traygle's should they appear (which they eventually will), are Kris Daniels' (Dhrelva). Everything else, like the Korvils, are mine. 

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**Chapter One: The Letter**

Hannah unfastened her tiara, a simple silver thread with a little grey star in the middle. It had so many points it looked more like a snowflake to Hannah. Or it would have, had she bothered looking at it. Instead, she tore it from what hair was left clinging to it and, unsatified with the meager destruction of a few red strands, threw the tiara at her dresser. That it hit the letter sitting on top of it was not entirely accidental. 

It was her invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had come by owl post just before dinner. The family had discussed it in complete silence. She had gone through Holyoke Pre-Elemental school; Her father was the HeadMaster of Holyoke Academy for Mages. She was going to Holyoke. This should have been a very simple decision. But then her brothers kept looking at her oddly, and as the meal dragged on she began to suspect that her parents may have other plans for her future. She wondered what they were saying in their private, or not so private, telepathic "lets exclude their only daughter" world. It wasn't right for them to be discussing this without her. It was her life, not theirs. 

But none of them deigned to let her in on their conversation. Not even her older brother, Phil, and he usually did. But then, her parents were looking at him, so he must be the one talking. Hannah sighed and pushed her vegetables around on her plate. 

"We think you should go," her mother broke the silence first. 

She put down her glass with a thunk and gaped at her. That was not what she wanted to hear. Phil was scowling at his green beans. Her other brother had the indecency to look quite cheerful. 

"We think you should go to Hogwarts," her mother repeated, the crescent moon on her tiara gleaming in the chandelier light. It made her look like an evil step mother from the fairy tales she'd read growing up. Right at the moment, though, she wasn't sure she wasn't. 

"But . . . it's a wizarding school. I'm not a witch," she glanced around the table at them. Did they think that because she couldn't read their thoughts that she wasn't a mage, too? She fought back the urge to leave. It wasn't like her parents to explain themselves to her. They usually left that to Phil. 

But her parents had already decided and no amount of talking could sway them. In the end, she had stormed up to her room and slammed the door behind her. If only she had been a mind mage too, then she would have had a chance of convincing them. But then again, if she were a mind mage they wouldn't have even considered sending her to Hogwarts. She was sure of that. 

No matter how she replayed the evenings events, she didn't see any way she could have presented her case better on such short notice. In the end, it had been useless to argue with them. The incriminating letter was still there. 

That could change easily enough. If they wouldn't even consider her side, then maybe she would just destroy the opportunity. No letter, no choice. That would show them. 

She considered. She could just rip it up and throw it out. It would be simple and effective. But it lacked style. She was a mage. She would dispose of the letter wanting her to be a Wizard ironically. Concentrating on the center of the letter, she rubbed the letter's particles together, swirling faster and faster. She smiled as the sealing wax started to melt. Finally, the letter burst into flame. 

"Hannah!" her mother sprung through the door, a glass of water in hand. Leaping over a stray laundry basket, she pushed Hannah out of the way and poured the water overthe flames. The dresser was a little scorched, but other than that everything seemed okay. Except that her mom was scowling at her. Hannah swallowed. Perhaps, on second thought, this had not been one of her better ideas. At least the letter was gone. 

"Just what did you think you were doing, young lady?" the mom voice, complete with the mom phrase and the mom look. Hannah looked at her feet. "You could have burnt the house down." 

She didn't need to say, "I know," but she did anyway. 

"You promised you wouldn't do this anymore," she held her glare for another moment, just long enough for Hannah to remember something else about promises. 

"I promised!" she exclaimed, stepping back, away from her mom so she didn't look so very tall, "You promised you'd stay out of my head!" There was no way her mom could have made it here this quickly with water if _she _had been keeping all of _her_ promises. 

Tap, tap! Mother and daughter turned toward the window. A brown barn owl hooted back at them. Hannah shot her mom a glare before crossing the room. A wave of hot air wafted in as she opened the window. A letter soared into her hands and the owl flew off again, presumably to the kitchen where one of the house elves would see it got fed. 

Hannah glanced after it, then looked at the letter. It was from Hogwarts. The same one. 

"I'll take that," the letter jumped out of her hand and into her mother's. 

"I'm staying at Holyoke's." 

"We only want what's best for you, Hannah," her mother replied soothingly. What wasn't there to like about Hogwarts, after all? She would learn to use a wand. It was important to have a fall back and there was only so much you could do with particles anyway. Sure, you could move some stuff around with practice, and make fires... but really, how useful was that? A wand would be a very practical tool. Her mother was right about this. Why was she being so stubborn? It would be nice, anyway, to go somewhere where everyone spoke out loud. 

"Now, dear," her mom said when Hannah's realization was over, "Could you please put your clothes away?" 

Hannah nodded belatedly, watching her step over the laundry basket and gently close the door. Her footsteps faded down the hall, and Hannah was alone again. She closed the window. 

_She did it again!_ Hannah realized suddenly. She launched herself at the door, pulling it open with such force she all but knocked herself over, "Stay out of my head!" she screamed and slammed it shut again. It bounced back open, so she kicked it closed. 

One part of her "realization" was right, anyway. It _would_ be nice to go somewhere where people didn't mess with your mind no matter _how_ good their intentions. She didn't put her clothes away. 


	2. Huffing Stuff

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

Because not all Hufflepuffs are boring. Set in the year of the Tri-Wizard Cup. Hannah Korvil, a young mage, is forced to go to a wizarding school against her will. Enter Dennis Creevy... let's sit back and see what happens, shall we?   
  
NOTE: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Tragyl's should they appear (which they eventually will), are my sister's(Dhrelva). Everything else, like the Korvils, are mine. 

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**Chapter Two: Huffing Stuff**

What was decided, stayed decided. The very next day Hannah's mother had whisked her off to Diagon Alley for school supplies. It was about as uneventful as trips into the wizarding world got, and even managed to verge on dull. Hannah was too sulky to notice anything interesting, anyway. Her mum tried to cheer her up with a copy of _Hogwarts, A History,_ but it did little to change her feelings on the matter. The man at the wand shop had risen his eyebrows when she entered with the mortifying comment, "A Korvil wants a wand... curious." 

"Oh, I don't _want_ it," she was quick to correct him, but she'd said it quietly and she didn't think he heard her. Either that or he'd ignored it. Either way, she had ended up with a wand. She didn't like it much, and by the way it had glowed a flickering, angry red when she'd held it, she doubted very much it liked her any better. It did have the benefit, however, of being the only one in the shop that wasn't set on zapping her, so the old man had let her buy it. 

In the following weeks, she had been careful not to let her mom catch her reading the book about Hogwarts. It was hard. She'd had to wait until late at night to steal glances at its mysterious moving pictures. Her curiosity made her. She didn't really want to look, didn't really care to know what mere wizard children did or how they learned. She was just looking for clues as to how to convince her parents to change their mind. Really, she was. 

Just in case her mother was spying. 

But she hadn't found anything to convince them before the dreaded morning had arrived. Hannah fought back a little flutter of excitement despite herself. Hopefully her mother hadn't noticed. She focused on remaining sullen for the taxi ride. Before she knew it, they were standing in front of the London train station, holding a ticket to Platform 9 3/4. 

"Your uncle went to Hogwarts, you know," her mother was saying as Hannah bungeed her suitcase to the luggage rack. Her mother had been passing the time telling Hannah every detail she knew about the school. It wasn't a lot, though, so she kept repeating herself. It was just as well, since it made it much easier for Hannah to feign disinterest. Their poor taxi driver, though. At least he had found new passangers and escaped the train station and the woman set on telling the same story in twenty different ways. 

"Mummmm," Hannah growled once she decided she'd heard the story enough times to tell it to her great grandchildren after she died complete with gesture and expression. She lightened her scwol to a somewhat puppy faced pleading glare, "Could we please talk about something else?" 

"Of course, dear," she continued right where she left off. Hannah sighed and tipped her luggage cart up on its wheels. Her mother took the hint and lead them away from the roadside without missing a syllable. Hannah followed. She had trouble keeping up until she realized that her cart was far easier to pull than push. 

Navigating the crowd proved to be problematic once they reached the platforms. There were so very many people. A muggle here wearing the strangest assortment of tattered things, a group of teenagers there saying goodbye to mums and dads, and a probable mage across the way, guiding his son toward Platform 9 3/4. Indeed he was a mage. Well, a wizard, actually. Hannah recognized him from the Daily Prophet. Lucious Malfoy. Well, of course, Hogwarts was good enough for even the best wizards. _Hogwarts, A History_ had said so. Not that she had managed to read through most of it, or anything. She didn't even want to go to the school. She had only been curious enough to take the time to look at all the pictures and skim through some of the more interesting sections... or the first paragraphs of the more interesting sections. It was painfully dull. Who would actually _want_ to go to a wizarding school anyway? 

Hannah flicked her eyes toward her mum to see her reaction, if her coverup had been good enough. She wasn't where she ought to have been. 

Where had she gotten off to? Panic swelled almost immediately... there were so many people. She'd never find her. Even Mr. Malfoy had vanished. Where _was_ she? What if she had left already, leaving her to find the platform alone. 

Oh! There! Her mother was waving to her from near Platform 10. She hurried to her. 

"I thought I lost you!" Hannah breathed when she reached her. In her relief, she slipped up, "Did you see Mr. Malfoy?" 

"I did. He's already on the platform. His son goes to Hogwarts, has been for a few years now. Many of the great wizarding families do," her mother all but winked at her. 

_She knows,_ Hannah frowned, resisting the urge to sigh tragically for her long suffering. Why couldn't she keep one little secret, just once? Her mum was supposed to feel _guilty_ about sending her only daughter away. Not... not... not whatever her mother was feeling instead. Then again... The Malfoys! At Hogwarts! She wouldn't have believed it, even if the book had spelt it out for her. The Malfoys were... well, they were famous, weren't they? 

_Famous for wizards, anyway,_ her sulky side added, cautiously gauging her mother's response. 

But if her mum was spying again, she didn't let on. She just shooed Hannah through the very solid looking brick wall between platforms 9 and 10. And then they were there. Platform 9 3/4. And there was the Hogwarts Express. It was a big, pristine, beautiful engine. Every bit as lovely as the pictures in _Hogwarts a History._ Part of her had hoped those pictures had been misleading just so she continue to be rightfully indignant. 

And the students! There were so many of them and not a single one she recognized. Rather different than Holyoke's PreElemental Chapter where the entire school had only 60 some students. Two classes for each grade. Six in a class. Why, there was her entire school several times over on this Platform, and that didn't even include parents and the kids already on the train. Her mother, she noticed, eyed them warily. They eyed her warily too. They knew what the crescent on her tiara meant. Mind mage. She could, and probably was reading all their thoughts. Hannah was glad, for once, that her own tiara only had a little snowflake-like star on it. 

They dropped off her luggage and Hannah turned to her mother. It was time for her to go now. For the first time that morning, her mum was lost for words. Hannah swallowed. She was afraid to say anything at all. Her silence, she was increasingly certain, was the only thing keeping her from breaking out in tears. She wouldn't be home again until Christmas! It was too far. Why didn't mum let her stay home, at Holyoke. It wasn't even a boarding school. She could live at home. 

"I wish you could stay too," her mum replied to the thought, "Just trust us for once, Hannah. You don't want to be at Holyoke." 

"Why?" she couldn't keep the demanding note from her voice, though she did try. 

"You'll like Hogwarts," her mother gathered her into her arms and squeezed. Hannah felt her mounting resentment drain away with her mother's rather urgent tone, "Make us proud. Study hard, and write to me... be good, play nice," she stiffened and held Hannah away from her giving her a pointed look, "Don't set anyone on fire." Yes, be good and play nice, indeed. 

Hannah swallowed, "I'll try." It had been necessary once before... 

"You will," her mother insisted, adjusting Hannah's tiara so it hung properly in the top center of her forehead, "I don't want any letters from Dumbledore about you terrorizing the other children." 

"Yes, mum." 

Her smile softened, "I love you." 

"Love you too," Hannah squeaked and pulled away, "Bye!" She fled onto the train, leaving her mum to wave after it. _Not gonna cry, not gonna cry._ Moments later the door closed behind her, and the Hogwarts Express huffed away from Platform 9 3/4. 

"I am on the Hogwarts Express," Hannah stared around, dumbfounded. The train's hallway was positively brimming with activity. Returning students bounced around greeting old friends with joyful exclamations. One group seemed particularly interested in a boy who'd shot up six inches over the summer and now towered over them all. Each cabin seemed to be having it's own thrilling discussion and the seats all seemed to be taken. Finally, at the very end of the hall, she found a cabin with an empty seat. 

The three boys looked up at her as she peered in and she suddenly became very self conscious. She felt a very deep desire to run and hide, and she might have if she had somewhere else to go. She wished fervently that she did. 

"M-mind if I join you?" 

The two bigger guys looked to the blonde with the slicked back hair and pointy nose. Belatedly, she recognized him as the boy who was with Mr. Malfoy. Too late to back out now. He smirked, sizing up her silky light brown robes, and long red hair woven into a complex array of braids. Finally, his grey eyes came to rest on her forehead, and she knew he was looking at her tiara. 

"A Korvil," he looked about to laugh at the prospect, "At Hogwarts?" 

"Hannah, if you please," she forced a winning smile. Even not seeing it, she could tell it was weak. How did he know she was a Korvil? Maybe wizards didn't know that most Korvils had crescent moons, not snowflakes. Or maybe hers was just the only known mage family that actually still wore the silly things. "And you are?" 

He looked at her outstretched hand but did not take it, "Draco Malfoy," he motioned with his chin, ever so slightly, to the two brutes across from him, "Crabbe, and Goyle. Fourth year." 

"Ah," Hannah blushed furiously, looking from one to another. Three of the most well known wizarding families represented right in the room and all three years above her. And she'd gone poking her nose in and asking to sit down and... she swallowed, "There aren't any other seats." 

"You don't want to sit here, Korvil." 

"No?" her heart sank as she tried, too late to surpress a nasty thought about people in general who seemed to know what she wanted so well. Instead, she said, "I should think it'd be an honor to sit beside a Malfoy." 

"Would you?" Draco sniggered, responding only to the spoken part. Oh yeah, he wasn't a mind mage. Good thing. Crabbe and Goyle laughed too. Hannah had a feeling they were laughing at her more than at what either of them had said. It wasn't really an unfounded worry, either, as Draco's next words were, "Well, let me rephrase that then. I wouldn't be caught dead next to a Korvil, much less a first year girl." 

"Oh. I see," yes, that was exactly her paranoia. Hannah wondered if she could vaporize in shame. Either way, it didn't seem to be happening fast enough. Her cheeks reddened. 

"You're not going to cry now, are you?" Draco taunted as though crying were the very most reprehensible thing she could possibly do just now. She watched him, wanting to storm off but somehow unable to leave. Her feet didn't seem to want to move. "What are you waiting for, Korvil? Go on." Malfoy gave her a long look that made her insides twitch and waved his hand in an imperious shooing motion. Hannah bolted. 

"Not quite a Gryffindor, is she?" she heard Crabbe's remark even halfway down the corridor. Their laughter redoubled. They were loud enough that some of the other students were beginning to take notice. Hannah's reflexes betrayed her and she was forced to wipe a glob of tears from her right eye. 

Faces turned politely away, going back to hiding in their own cabins. Hannah found the bathroom and hid there until a seventh year girl came in and asked her if she was alright. She invited her to join their cabin. 

Fortunately, it was in the opposite direction as Malfoy's, and Hannah was spared the shame of walking past it. Molly, as the seventh year's name turned out to be, was already wearing her Hogwarts uniform. It had a funny patch on it that she recognized as the Huffing Stuff crest from her book. 

The other three girls in the cabin also sported the Huffing Stuff insignia. Their eyes all got big and they smiled a little foolishly when Molly introduced her new little friend. There was an empty seat next to the one called Kay, and she moved down a little and they managed to make enough room for Hannah and Molly to both squeeze in. 

"Is this your first year, Hannah?" Niobe asked, showing her straight white teeth. She reminded Hannah of her babysitter back home. They asked her all sorts of questions, "Do you have any siblings?", "Who did your braids?", "Are you the first to go to Hogwarts?", "Are you scared?", "That's a cute tiara.", "Do you know about the sorting?" 

"A little bit," Hannah tried to remember what her book had said. She had been kinda tired when she was reading it. Not that she had read it. Nor that she had wanted to, nor that she wanted to even go to the school. Not that anything about the book had been even the slightly bit interesting... not that she had to pretend anymore. She took a deep breath, "The Huffing Stuffs are boring," the girls giggled. Hannah faltered a little, but kept going, "the Ravens are, um, black. The Hippogriffs," they were laughing uncontrollably now, "are... well, they're... Hippogriffs, I guess. Dangerous, maybe? And the Snakes just kinda slither around." 

The girls took a couple minutes to regain control over themselves. Just as they had almost calmed down, Kay snorted, "Hippogriffs," and they'd all dissolved into giggles all over again. Hannah smiled uneasily, not quite sure what they were laughing at. The Houses had completely baffled her when she read the book. Why would anyone want to be a Huffing Stuff? At least the others were all animals. 

She was particularly mortified when Kay gasped, "She's adorable!" But at least it was out loud. She smiled a little at that. 

Finally, Elsa, the girl next to Niobe, gained control of herself, "It's not Huffing stuff, it's Hufflepuff," she explained, grinning, "_Hufflepuff_ is known for its loyalty and hard workers, _not_ being boring," Elsa glanced at the other three girls and leaned in with a stage whisper, "though we do have that reputation, too. But don't tell the other girls I said so." The others pretended to look offended. Elsa sat up and continued normally, "And then your Hippogriffs are actually Gryffindors." 

"So they're like griffins?" 

"Not quite, no. They're known for their courage. And the Slytherins are not snakes, though they have one on their crest, and they are supposed to be very devious and ambitious. What was the other... oh yeah, the Ravens. That was closer. They're Raven_claws_, though, and they're just brilliant." 

"Oooh," Hannah grinned sheepishly, still not completely understanding the use of being a raven's claw over being the raven itself. But the girls seemed absolutely delighted with her anyway. Having heard such interesting fabrications about the Houses, they decided to pass the time quizzing her on other details about Hogwarts. If they were looking for more of the same, they got it. Hannah had, admittedly, never been very good at remembering things. Everything in her memory about Hogwarts turned out to be equally garbled, and that's if she'd understood it correctly to begin with. _Hogwarts, A History_ had been well above her reading level. Not that she'd tried to read it, of course. 

As the train ride went on, she started to enjoy telling the seventh years about the Great Hallway's staircases that randomly changed into fireplaces, and the ceiling that was enchanted to look like the Head Master. They didn't seem to care that it was all wrong, and they even took the time to correct her on most of it. The truth was just as puzzling as her fictions, though, and she secretly suspected they were teasing her. If they weren't, Hannah fervently hoped she would be sorted into Hufflepuff. Not that she was interested in it. 

If they even made it to the sorting, that was. The weather was awful when they finally changed into their Hogwarts uniforms and left the Hogwarts Express. Hannah had debated long and hard before removing her tiara and unbraiding her hair. If she wanted to make friends, she decided, she ought to at least try to look normal. Even if she didn't want to go to the school, there was no point in unnecessarily attracting the attentions of her grade's bullies until they already had their favorite victims picked out. 

But her hair stuck out at such odd angles from being so long confined, that she'd almost put it back in before Niobe pulled a comb out of nowhere. The older girl took unwarranted delight in combing out and braiding Hannah's red tresses into a single simple braid that ended abruptly at her waist. 

As it turned out, it wouldn't have mattered even if she'd just left it down. The rain was so heavy it would have straightened even the most crimped of hair in seconds. Hannah's cabin mates bid her good-bye and good luck and headed off to their waiting carriages. A massive giant of a man was yelling for all the first years to follow him. They boarded boats, half sunk with rain water, and rocked across the water. Hannah tried to huddle deeper in her robes to shield herself from the wind, but it was a lost cause. The further from the shore they got, the more dangerously the boat swayed. A wave jolted them, and the mousy haired boy next to Hannah toppled over the side. 

Hannah tried to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. She couldn't see him anywhere. She leaned over to peer closer at turbid waters. 

"Away from the side!" the giant shouted over the wind. A huge black mass was coming towards the surface. This time her scream escaped as she jumped backwards. It barely poked out from the water before it had vanished again. Hannah stared at where it had been. Had it gotten that boy? Frozen, she barely saw the man pull him out onto the boat. 

The giant threw his coat over the boy and had him sit back down. Hannah grabbed his arm protectively, he looked so much younger than the rest of them, "Are you okay?" 

He looked completely bewildered, "I am so... _lu_cky!" 

Hannah choked as particularly large wave caught her in the face. She wondered who would be next to barely survive their watery grave... assuming, of course, they didn't all freeze to death before they had a chance to fall out of the boat. The castle didn't seem to be getting any closer, and the lake wasn't getting any calmer. She felt her panic rising like it had in the train station when she thought she'd lost her mother. 

But the sopping wet boy beside her caught her gaze, "It was so cool! Wait till I tell my brother!" he was positively beaming at her now, barely noticing the thunderstorm going on around them. He was completely beside himself, though from shock or glee Hannah was no longer certain. 

She kept a firm grasp on his arm until they reached the far shore. She told herself that this was because she was afraid he would fall overboard again and not because she herself was terrified. He tried to distract her by telling her about his brother, Colin, and how he knew Harry Potter. At least, that's what she thought he was saying, but he was so excited he could barely make sentences so it was hard to tell. 

By the time they reached the castle-like school everyone was just as wet as Dennis, Hannah's new found friend. With a little effort, she even managed to undo her vice grip on his arm enough for him to wriggle out of it. Finally inside, Dennis gazed openmouthed around as the big doors closed behind them. A very dry and warm looking teacher introduced herself as Professor McGonagal and made a little speech. Hannah took the time to wring some of the water out of her braid, and noticed others doing the same with their robes. The floor around the group was quickly becoming a massive puddle. Professor McGonagal noticed their stirring, and made a point to mention that soon enough they would be in the Great Hall and it would be warm and they would have hot food. This got everyone's attention and she led them off. 

By the time they stopped in front of what Hannah could only assume was the entrance to the Great Hall, they had at least started leaving footprints rather than streams of mud and water on the floor. Dennis was all but bouncing in the oversized fur coat the big man had lent him. 

The doors opened. It was beautiful. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky, and stars gleamed and sparkled, just like Niobe had said. The moon was at a 3/4 crescent just like outside would have been if it hadn't been so cloudy. Hannah followed the other first years up the center aisle. There were two very long tables on either side of them and all the older students watched them with interest. 

They lined up at the front of the room, facing the other students. Hannah grinned toward the Hufflepuff table, looking for her cabin mates. Niobe and Molly waved, but she didn't have time to find the other two before Professor McGonagal put a stool out in front of them. On the stool she placed an old hat. It sang, just as Molly had said it would. Then the students were called up, one by one, to be Sorted. 

"Ackerly, Stewart!" Professor McGonagal read the first name. Stewart walked nervously up and picked up the hat. The stool looked fairly high next to him, but he managed to sit down without either falling over or knocking it over. A fair accomplishment for someone shaking as much as he was. 

"RAVENCLAW!" The hat shouted. The boy, Hannah and the rest of the first years jumped. He took off the hat and joined the table cheering particularly loudly. Alright, so that was all they had to do. Put the hat on, and go where it told you to. She glanced at Dennis. He didn't seem nervous at all. 

Hannah waited, shivering, for her turn. Dennis was among the first names called and he eagerly joined the Gryffindor table. Now Hannah was uncertain. Did she want Gryffindor or Hufflepuff? Not that it mattered what she wanted as the hat would decide where she belonged. The Sorting thing was almost making sense to her by the time Professor McGonagal reached her name, "Korvil, Hannah!" 

Stepping forward, she heard someone at the Slytherin table cough loudly. She wondered if the snickers heard coming from there were real or just her paranoia. Then again, from her experience on the train, where Draco Malfoy was involved, there was no such thing as paranoia. She did what all the others had done and tried very hard not to look as shaky as they had, with the exception of Dennis of course. 

"A Korvil," the hat stated in fascination once she placed it firmly on her head. 

"Yup," she thought back at it. 

"Hmmm," the Hat mused. She threw her sulkiness to the winds. Somehow, a Hat deciding her fate wasn't as bad as her parents. 


	3. Disappointments

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

Because not all Hufflepuffs are boring. Set in the year of the Tri-Wizard Cup. Hannah Korvil, a young mage, is forced to go to a wizarding school against her will. Enter Dennis Creevy... let's sit back and see what happens, shall we?   
  
NOTE: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Tragyl's should they appear (which they eventually will), are my sister's(Dhrelva). Everything else, like the Korvils, are mine. 

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A/N _(December 23, 2002)_: I fixed up Chapter Two a little bit (I had gotten a comment that there should be more of a transition between it and Chapter One and while I was at it I couldn't help making minor changes throughout). Nothing much of significance to go back and reread except, perhaps, the very beginning. It briefly mentions Hannah's trip to Diagon Alley for supplies.   


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**Chapter Three: Disappointments**

"You're not very ambitious," the hat pointed out. Hannah wondered if this was an insult or merely an observation. She waited. "But if you wanted something enough, you do have a capacity for deception to get your way." 

"True...," she thought of her exaggerated dislike of Hogwarts and all things wizarding. She didn't have much left to be ambitious about, in her opinion. Now she would never learn to fully harness her power so she could do more, in an emergency, than set the other kid's robes on fire. Even a wizard could do that. She was a mage... she had wanted to prove that energy could be just as powerful as the mind; that she was worthy of the family name even if she hadn't been graced with the family gift. 

Now what? A wand. Incantations. Nonsense. 

"You've been willing to work hard to prove yourself. And you've had to, you don't have the sheer brains for Ravenclaw." 

"Thanks," she whispered dryly, feeling a blush crawl up her cheeks. It didn't help that most of the other students were staring at her from their tables. She avoided looking toward the Slytherins. Hopefully, she wouldn't be put there. Not after the disaster on the train. 

The hat made another thoughtful sound. It seemed to be following her drifting attention, "You could be brave, once you get used to the idea that most people _can't_ read your mind. Of course, that will also make you more inclined to deceive just because you can. You've had to be loyal, too, couldn't afford to not be, could you? They would have known. What will you become now that you have a choice?" 

"Please," Hannah pleaded, consciously stopping her swinging feet. The Hat's direction of thought made her stomach feel funny. What would it be like to not live under her family's constant omnipotent eyes? She didn't want to hear any more about it. The thought terrified her. Perhaps the only thing more terrifying was the way it made her well up with long surpressed desire. She carefully didn't think about that, "Just put me somewhere. It doesn't really matter where. I don't even belong here." She belonged at Holyokes. 

"With mind mages who make you feel deaf, or daft at the very least?" the Hat countered, "I think you will find that you belong here, Hannah. And, it just so happens, I know exactly where to put you." 

Hannah held her breath. It was over, he'd decided. But where? 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" 

Hannah could have melted off the stool. Hufflepuff! It was too good to be true! Surely she had heard wrong. As far as she could tell, the Hat had been leaning toward Slytherin. But sure enough, as she placed the Hat back on the stool, Professor McGonagal pointed toward Niobe and Molly's table. 

Hannah slipped into a seat next to the other Hufflepuff first years to watch the Hat do its thing. All told, when the Sorting was complete, there were eight of them. Dumbledore made a quick speech and invited them to eat. Food appeared instantly with flare and brillance. More than food, what Hannah actually wanted were dry clothes. Food, however, especially steaming hot food that smelled like this food did, was not unwelcome. 

"So, ah," one of the boys, Kevin Whitby, the last student Sorted, said after they'd all greedily stuffed their mouths a few times, "What did it say to you guys?" 

"I almost got Gryffindor," another of the boys, Nick someone or another, said regretfully. Hannah followed his eyes to the Gryffindor table. She could see why he might be disappointed. The first years there were already buzzing with conversation like long lost friends. Dennis had found his brother and was gesturing wildly with excitement. 

"Why didn't you?" Kevin asked, gently pulling Nick's attention back to their table, "get Gryffindor, I mean?" 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

They all watched him push his vegetables around until, embarrassed, they turned back to their own plates. Had the others been eager to get one of the more glorious houses, also? Kevin also spared a longing glance at the Gryffindor table. 

"Well," Hannah volunteered quietly, in case it would help, "the Hat was kinda rude, wasn't it? I mean, it told me right out I wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw. What does a stupid worn down hat know anyway?" 

"Obviously that you're not smart enough for Ravenclaw," Nick dropped his knife, making a loud clang, "It can read your mind. It knows more about you than you do." He stabbed his fork into a thick slab of ham. 

"Mind reading is overrated." 

Nick glared at her. Hannah was increasingly aware that the other Hufflepuffs were starting to notice them. His eyes narrowed under wide eyebrows. Suspicion, "And you should know, shouldn't you, Korvil?" 

Hufflepuff wasn't supposed to be like this. She pursed her lips. 

"We know what you are," Nick glanced around. Eleanor Branstone nodded, ever so slightly. Kevin swallowed and tried to look inconspicuous. 

"You were wearing that tiara on the train. We all saw you. And your mother was at the station. She's... she can... I've seen pictures of her before," Owen's wavering voice joined the battle. That made four against, and three staying out. Hannah didn't know what to say. 

"Well, I can't" she started lamely, "I not a mind mage. My parents are. So're my brothers. I'm not. When the elemental gifts were handed around, I got bloody energy," Hannah couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice, "You can't do anything with that. Nothing a fledgling wizard can't, anyway." She stuffed a piece of potato in her mouth to keep her from saying more. Warmth, good food. Her mounting anger drifted away. Who could honestly not want to go to a school that made such good potatos? 

They ate in silence for a few more awkward minutes. Nick managed to catch her eye. He held it a moment before admitting, "The Hat said I wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw either." Was that an apology? She wasn't sure. 

"Hey, me too," Kevin grinned. 

"Yeah. Same story," Owen elbowed Nick, "All but said I was downright cowardly, too." 

"You, too?" Nick shuddered visibly at the memory, but it didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. His smile didn't falter when it fell on Hannah, "What did else did it say to you?" 

"It said...," she wondered which part she could safely mention without weirding them out again. Surely not the Slytherin part. Or even the Gryffindor. Then she remembered the most important part of all. She grinned back at him, "It said I belong here." 

"Yeah, that's true," Nick licked his lips, "And aren't my parents in for a surprise!" 

"Mine too," Jaci, who hadn't said anything yet, spoke up, "they thought I'd be Slytherin for sure...," the silence stretched again. Hannah wondered if she'd looked a moment ago as Jaci did now. Except that she had been trying to convince the others she was trustworthy. Jaci had other things on her mind, "Father's going to kill me." 

She sniffed and Hannah could see tears welling up in her eyes. The girl next to her squeezed her around the shoulders, "It's okay. He's not..." 

"I've dishonored the family name!" she squeaked. Hannah fervantly wished there was something she could do. 

"I thought I had problems," she heard Nick whisper half to himself, "My family's all Gryffindors." 

"Yeah. Mine're Ravenclaws," Eleanor added with a nod, "I think her family is friends with the Braddock's. Malcom might try to come after her." 

"Right," Nick sent a cautious glance towards the Slytherin table and steeled himself, "I'll keep an eye out for her." 

"Yeah, we all will," Owen agreed. Hannah nodded her assent with the others. Hufflepuffs stick together. 


	4. Cedric Diggory

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

Because not all Hufflepuffs are boring. Set in the year of the Tri-Wizard Cup. Hannah Korvil, a young mage, is forced to go to a wizarding school against her will. Enter Dennis Creevy... let's sit back and see what happens, shall we?   
  
NOTE: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Tragyl's should they appear (which they eventually will), are my sister's(Dhrelva). Everything else, like the Korvils, are mine. 

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A/N: Thanks Cry and Dhrelva for reviewing (and if anyone else is reading, could you review too? It makes me happy...)! Hopefully, Cry, I'll answer your questions within this part. Enjoy!   


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**Chapter Four: Cedric Diggory**

Dinner was too long. The HeadMaster kept them there after they'd finished to make an announcement about the TriWizard Cup. It really only applied to the older students, but they'd had to wait around and listen anyway. A couple of the boys whispered excitedly, but even that was short lived. She thought overheard Owen say, "Finish up, man, it's cold..." They weren't as sopping wet as they had been, but partially damp was still more than enough to keep them in a perpetual chill. 

When the announcement had finally ended, they followed their prefects across the castle and up a set of shifting staircases. As they walked, one of their two prefects, either Niobe or Cedric, would point out or explain things to them. Such as the staircases that moved, or the hallway they'd take to their classes. After rounding a few more corners, they came to a sudden halt. Hannah looked around, but saw only a portrait of an anxious looking young man. 

"This," Cedric announced, "is Kingsly. To enter the common room, you need to tell him the password. It's important that you don't give out the password or bring any of the students from the other Houses here. They, likewise, are instructed to do the same." He sounded like he was giving a speech memorized verbatim from a handbook. Probably the one Niobe was carrying, labeled "_The Perfect Prefect_ by Rik Kingsly." Cedric continued in the same tone, "When the password changes, which it will, you'll be given a few days notice to make sure everyone gets the new password. If you forget it, you can get it from Professor Sprout, Niobe, or myself." Niobe was the other prefect. She exchanged grins with Hannah. 

"New batch, eh?" Kingsly puffed at his pipe, making a nice set of little O's float out of his frame. He was eyeing the newbies with interest, "Eight. Decent number. I heard it's a big class this year, what with the TriWizard Cup and all that." 

Cedric got a funny little smile on his face, again. At the beginning of the tour he'd been somewhat preoccupied. Niobe had said it was the TriWizard Cup and Cedric was having glory vision worthy of a Gyffindor. Then she'd winked and smiled a little too innocently when Cedric gave her a look. 

"Well, it's true," Niobe had scolded him lightly, "If you were paying any less attention I'd have to give the tour for you. Now, hurry along, the dears are shivering." 

Now, Cedric managed to pull himself back to the present without Niobe's prodding. He made sure they were all paying attention, catching each of their eyes in turn. He took a deep break and uttered the long awaited password to the Hufflepuff common room, "Fubby Wubby." 

"That's it?" Niobe giggled, "That's the new password?" The portrait swung out into the hallway with a, "Hurumph," allowing the first years to peer into the common room. 

"Professor Sprout chose it!" Cedric murmured defensively, his pride already on the lurch for the day, "It's what Pernella named her mandrake last year." 

"Did she?" Niobe grinned, eyes twinkling merrily. She motioned the first years through the entry, "That's so charming! Fubby wubby!" 

Hannah followed Jaci through the opening, leaving Niobe and Cedric to head up the rear. The common room was rich, trimmed in yellows, blacks and blues. A group of older students had made it in ahead of them. As soon as the Kingsly portrait swung closed, Niobe spread her arms wide and said, "Fubby wubby!" Everyone laughed, especially one girl who doubled over, face turning red. Hannah surmised that this was Pernella. Niobe grinned at her, "It's cute. You must be flattered." 

"Oh, I am," Pernella laughed, "I'm honored." 

Niobe then introduced the first years to Pernella and a bunch of the others who's names Hannah forgot almost instantaneously. Then, Niobe led the shivering first year girls up a spiral staircase on the right side of the common room. At the very top of the stairs, she opened up the last door and pronounced it theirs. Indeed it was, complete with all the luggage they'd left on the Hogwarts Express as well as four four-post beds for the four of them. Each bed had lovely black curtains embroidered with an elegant yellow pattern. 

"The wash room," Niobe pointed out, is down past the other rooms, on the landing. Hannah hadn't really noticed the landing, but she didn't ask and Niobe left. As soon as the door closed behind her, the girls looked at each other. It was finally the time they'd all been waiting for. 

Hannah kicked off her shoes and left her soggy socks on the floor. She unbungeed her muggle style suitcase from the luggage rack and poured the contents on the bed. A moment later, her school robe was off, her uniform skirt and blouse replaced by the rusty silk dress and light brown robe she'd worn on the train. The other girls had done the same. Blessed warmth. 

Jaci had hung her wet things up to dry at the foot of her bed. Hannah did the same. Her other clothes she organized into the drawers provided, and slid the luggage cart under the bed. The suitcase, she left out to store some things in and claim the bed as her own. It looked funny at the foot of the bed where all the other girls had wizard style trunks. She wondered what they kept in those things. She'd only brought the supplies listed, a couple books, and a few changes of clothes. 

She set _The Idiot's Guide to Elemental Particles_ on her nightstand with _A Mage with a Mission_, and Mira Humberly's series: _Fun With Fire_, _More Fun With Fire_, and _Even More Fun With Fire_. 

"What are these?" Hannah turned to see Laura Madley, the girl who'd kept quiet at dinner, looking at her books. She read off the Humberly series' titles to emphasize her point. 

"They're tutorials, kinda," Hannah explained, "Practice. I'm still working on book one. Those are the texts I'd be using this year if I were still at Holyoke. Mom let me get them anyway." 

"Holyoke?" 

Hannah tried not to look wistful as she said it, "Holyoke Academy of Mind and Elemental Studies," she failed miserably, "my father's the HeadMaster. But, he and mum wouldn't let me go." 

"Why's that?" Jaci asked. They'd all gathered around her bed now and we making themselves comfortable. 

"Because I'm not a mind mage," she was getting distinctly annoyed by this thread of conversation. Why did they have to ask so many questions? 

She had left her tiara on the bed stand next to the books. Laura was reading the back of _A Mage with a Mission_. Jaci, on the other hand, was looking at it curiously. She caught Hannah's eye, "Can I touch it?" 

At her nod, Jaci scooped it up and carried it back over to the bed. She was studying it closely, as though it might change at any moment. It could have easily passed for a simple necklace if it weren't for the little combs that held it in place. Her mother's was a little fancier, with two of the metal chains on either side. Jaci held it up, upsidedown, "You wear it a lot, don't you?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"You have a tan line," she traced a similar line on her own forehead. Eleanor nodded agreement, "You should keep wearing it. It's pretty." 

"Thanks," Hannah accepted the little chain back from the Slytherin want to be. Her forehead kinda felt funny without it, anyway. She slipped it back in place, "It was my Great grandmother's. They had to change the charm, of course," that was all she was going to say about it, but they actually looked interested so she kept talking, "Everyone in my family has one. It's the sign of a mage. The sixteen sided star -or sun, or, I like to call it a snowflake- means my elemental power is energy or fire. They're kinda similar. At least, I don't really understand the difference. They usually go together, though, so they have the same symbol. The rest of my family have crescent moons on theirs-" 

"Your dad too?" 

Hannah shook her head, laughing at the mental image of her dad with a delicate little tiara on his forehead, "Nooo... My dad has this big amulet." She held her fingers about three inches apart to show just how big and placed it over her chest, "Always outside his robes. My brothers too. It's like...," she struggled to find a comparison but found none on the tip of her tounge, "It tells people they're dealing with a mage and not just a wiz-...ard," she finished the word and bit her lip. There were probably a few people in the room who would take offense to that remark. Three girls who just happened to be sitting on her bed, to be precise. 

But no one said anything. They just waited, accepting that she had realized her prejudices. Of course, they didn't say anything to change the subject either. The silence stretched awkwardly. Hannah wasn't sure if they even cared about her story anymore, but she kept talking anyway, "It tells people they're dealing with a mage. It also tells them what sort of mage. The star, sun, snowflake... whatever you want to call it, is energy and fire. The moon is mind, which includes telepathy, telekinetics, and thought, uh, shaping. There's air, too, that's a circle, and water is a wave," she twirled her finger in the air to trace out a crashing wave's spiral, "The tiaras and amulates used to be tradition until, a few hundred years ago, the Ministry of Magic started _requiring_ mages to wear them. When they changed the law, most mages stopped wearing them because they could. But my family decided that whether or not it had been law, it was tradition first, so we still wear them." Hannah mentally congradulated herself for remembering anything at all from her Mages and the Ministry class in PreElemental School. 

There were, apparently, no questions. After a rather long silence, Jaci said, "Oh." She was wearing a green robe with silver trim. Very Slytherin. Her father had probably not even considered the possibility of his daughter being Sorted into Hufflepuff, "What was it like growing up with mind mages?" 

Why did they have to talk about her? Because she was the weird one? Hannah sighed, "It was much like growing up with mind mages. You get left out a lot, what with thoughts flying everywhere. Everyone starts laughing at nothing sometimes. Kinda makes you self-conscious. What are your families like?" 

"My parents are Hufflepuffs," Laura volunteered, "They're great, but somewhat overprotective. They didn't really want me to leave home. Dad's been crying for weeks. They're going to be happy, I think, with my Sorting. Unlike the rest of you. Eleanor, you wanted Ravenclaw?" 

The dark haired girl nodded, "But I think this might be better, after all. I mean, if I were Ravenclaw, I'd probably have to be in the library 20 hours a day just so I could have a conversation with the others when I came home," she grinned, "Better a smart Hufflepuff than a dumb Ravenclaw, right?" 

"Hey, who says you're smarter than we are?" Jaci asked in mock offense, "That's like saying Nick's braver or that I'm more ambitious..." 

"Well, are you?" 

Jaci grinned mischeiviously, "Or that Laura's more loyal, or Hannah's a better mind reader." 

The other girls fell into an easy conversation. Jaci seemed more and more at ease with the Sorting Hat's decision as the night wore on, though Laura and Eleanor soon dominated the conversation. Jaci said a few words now and then, and Hannah tried to participate, too, but she didn't really know what to say. She missed her friends back home. 


	5. Professors of Doom

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

When Hannah, a young mage, is sent to Hogwarts instead of the Holyoke Acedemy of Mind and Elemental Studies, she finds her world, and Hufflepuff House, in disarray. Has the Sorting Hat made several mistakes this year, or has Hufflepuff always been like this? Set in the year of the TriWizard Cup.   
  
NOTE: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Tragyls, should they appear, are my sister(Dhrelva)'s. Everything else, like the Korvils, are mine. 

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Oh, Cry, I _loved_ your not-so-subtle hints (give me more)! And fear not, Ashley, that wasn't the ending... the story has barely begun! 

A/N2: Sorry for the wait. The massively important "are-you-getting-a-job -after-college-or-not" Junior Film got in the way. But that's done now (woohoo!).   


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**Chapter Five: Professors of Doom**

Potions with the Gryffindors. Professor Snape was reputed to be a nasty man. He had no respect for Hufflepuffs. 

"Neither does anyone else," a second year warned them, "Just mind you don't make trouble and he won't make more than the usual for you. Not like you were Gryffindors, anyway. Especially bad on Gryffindors, he is. Hasn't got no love for us, though." 

"You mean daddy Snape doesn't love us?" a girl had assumed a mortified expression. Only the first years giggled. The second years looked horrified and shushed her. 

"Don't joke! He might hear!" They glanced at the head table uneasily. Fortunately for them, the prowling greasy man in black had vanished. The girl sighed in relief, "I forgot he was here. Doesn't usually come to breakfast. Better beat him there like good first years. Go on." 

Hannah filed out of the Great Hall with the other first years, glancing back to see the color slowly returning to her paled face. An uneasy feeling trembled in the pit of Hannah's stomach. It only increased as they descended into the dungeons. She mentally checked off her needed supplies. Her stick... er, wand? In her robes, making an awful bulge. Books? In the bag, though she couldn't check that they were the right ones without stopping and probably getting lost. Cedric had given them a quick tour before breakfast so they could find the potions classroom. 

Fortunately, Eleanor had a good memory and was valiantly leading the way. There were no windows, so how the classroom the finally found was lit was anyone's guess. It must have been some sort of magic that kept working even after you stopped applying energy to it. Her mother would have frowned disapprovingly and murmured something about sheer laziness. Hannah doubted anyone in the Great Hall was consciously keeping those candles floating either. 

She took the desk behind Laura and Eleanor. Jaci took the chair beside her. There was no sign of Professor Snape. The second years had instilled them with The Fear of the Potions Master, though, so they assumed when he deigned to make his entrance he would be quite upset at anyone who wasn't in their seats and ready to go immediately. 

The Gryffindors wandered in a few minutes later. Dennis Creevey waved from across the room and took a seat in front. He kept glancing at the door with a look of such excitement that it hurt just to watch. His eyes lit up with a huge grin when Professor Snape stormed the room. 

He really was even scarier up close. Pale face, thin black hair in an unkempt squire-cut, a billowing black robe and the presence and bearing of a wizarding Ebaneazer Scrooge. Hannah clasped her hands under her desk and sat up straighter, trying not to look like a wizarding Tiny Tim. His dark eyes soared over them. They seemed to rest for a moment on her forehead. If only she hadn't chosen to wear the wretched thing after all, then he wouldn't have noticed her specifically. Lots of girls in the school had long red hair, after all, and the school uniforms were quite anonymous in and of themselves. Was she wrong to wear it? Was it rude? The lump in her stomach jumped to her throat. It edged up with every overly powerful beat of her heart. 

His gaze moved on to the Gryffindors. He looked less than enthusiastic to see Dennis Creevey there, but made no comment on anyone in particular. Instead, he unrolled the attendance, "Bergin." 

Two of the Gryffindors asked, "Which one?" 

Snape looked down his nose at the boy, "You would be Greg Bergin." 

"Yes, professor." 

"Speaking out of turn. One point from Gryffindor." 

"For having the same last name?!" Lia, the other girl who'd spoken defended. Greg motioned, too late, for her to be quiet. She gave him an apologetic glance. 

"They're in alphabetical order, Miss Bergin," Snape sniffed, "I hardly think one would have to be Ravenclaw to put L before G, but then," he paused and the faint hint of a smile was not kind, "you can never be sure with Gryffindors. If you have a mind," he emphasized the conditional, "I suggest you put it to better use in the future." Lia looked like she might cry, but she held his gaze until he looked back down at his list, "Cauldwell." After that, the class scarcely dared to breathe. 

Finally, Snape set down the roll and his black eyes flicked over to the Bergins. 

"Most of you will not appreciate the subtle"- tap- "art of potions. Some of you, might not" -tap- "even consider it magic." His gaze turned on Owen Cauldwell, who had been nervously tapping his wand on the desk. "Don't fiddle with it, Mr. Cauldwell." 

"Sorry," he muttered, slipping his wand back into his robes. His hands were shaking. 

"That's how accidents happen," the professor turned his attention back to the class, leaving Owen tend to his heart rate. They were lucky not to have lost House points for his tapping wand and they well knew it. "Fortunately for Cauldwell, there will be no wand waving in this class. So, if he, or any of the rest of you," he gave the Bergins a sallow glare, "can't see your way towards keep them away, you can leave them in your dorms," the potions master continued on to explain different uses of potions. After a couple minutes he stopped and glared directly at Hannah, "Why aren't you copying this down Miss Korvil?!" 

There was a sudden rustle of papers as the rest of the class opened their notebooks and started writing furiously. 

"Is your memory so good that you can remember everything I say tomorrow? How about in two weeks? Six months?" 

"No, profess..essor." None of the students dared laugh. As soon as the evil teacher of Hades looked away, she also picked up her quill. 

Her head was soon spinning. Visions of the proper methods of preparing the day's ingredients blurred with the setting up of the cauldron and the proper organization of a potions supply cabinet. When Snape mentioned the word "fire" she took an involuntary mental side trip involving burning the warlock at the stake. 

She was just trying to remember whether or not grease would burn when Jaci nudged her, "Go get the ingredients. I'll set up." Half the class was out of their seats already, gathering around the Potions cabinet. Dried nettles, porcupine quills, and a few other things were on her list. She double checked the writing on the board to make sure it was complete. It was, but her notes about the potions cabinet's organization were a little sketchy. Quills.. quills were from birds. So, that meant a porcupine must be a bird... or was it a magical bird? 

"It's like a hedgehog," Dennis explained as he took some quills for himself. He kept his voice low, almost unrecognizable without the bubbling excitement. Even Dennis' mood seemed to have been slightly tampered by the Potions Master of Doom, "Lia said the nettles were on the top near the side... there," he retrieved enough for both of them and split the lot with a grin. Together, they managed to find all the ingredients, though Hannah only spotted the mums before Dennis. Maybe she could copy his notes later. 

Potions, it seemed, was not destined to be her best subject. At least she didn't blow anything up. Dennis wasn't so lucky. Maybe she wouldn't copy his notes after all. There wasn't much left of them, anyway. 

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If Professor Snape was a barely disguised demon out to give students nightmares, Hannah hadn't wanted to meet Professor Binns. He was a real ghost. Actually dead. And he taught History of Magic. But her fears had been unfounded. Halfway through the period, she even stopped marking notes down ferociously. Everything he said was in the book, and the Slytherins were smirking at her so she stopped. Jaci's nervous fidgeting was the only thing keeping her awake when Binns' dull monotone finally announced the end of class. 

She followed Jaci out of the classroom. In the hallway, the Slytherins were waiting for them. "Hufflepuff, Jaci? We thought you were better than that," a stout girl sniffed, "You're a disgrace to Grassicks everywhere." 

Jaci turned up her nose in a dignified counter-sniff that made Hannah shiver, "And you're an Adams, Patricia. Shouldn't you know your place by now?" Hannah wondered if she should run, but then Jaci flicked her a glance and she didn't dare move. How quickly her somewhat withdrawn Hufflepuff friend of half a day transformed into a Slytherin pureblood radiating with something almost elemental. 

Patricia Adams still glared, but it no longer held force. Her power had been overcome by a set of rules Hannah didn't understand. She stepped aside for pretty petite little Amber Maccon. Hannah could almost feel the energy coming from her. This was the leader of the Slytherin girls. Jaci was finished. Hannah glanced to her friend, but if her accessment was right, Jaci either didn't know or she wasn't showing it. 

"Amber Maccon," Jaci acknowledged. Was that a quiver in her voice? 

_Run, run, run!_ Hannah's mind screamed. But to do that would call attention to herself. Freeze, like a possum who spots danger. Yes, good plan. Don't blink. 

"Jaci Grassick," she said the name like it was dirty, "If I were you, I would be more careful about my choice of words," she tisked, and tilted her head ever so slightly towards Hannah, "and friends. But I guess there's no help for that now, seeing as you're a loyal, hardworking Hufflepuff now." 

Jaci jumped her. The two tumbled down to the floor with a thump. Amber Maccon screamed and dodged a well placed punch while Patricia Adams joined the battle from behind. Hannah stared. Their own Kevin, Owen and Nick were running down the corridor towards them, but they wouldn't make it in time. It was Jaci's turn to scream. Before Hannah knew it she was on Patricia's back, trying to pry her away from Jaci. Someone else had gotten a good handful of her hair and was trying to pull her off. Amber wrestled Jaci into a sitting position and had seized her arms. Jaci struggled to get them back, wincing with their twisting. Patricia threw Hannah off, toppling her into Jaci's lap and bumping their heads together. 

"ENOUGH!" 

Amber let go of Jaci like a poisonous snake, "Professor!" She jumped up and ran to the tiny Professor's side. Belatedly the third Slytherin girl dropped Hannah's hair. She and Patricia joined Amber, leaving Hannah to pull Jaci to her feet. 

The dwarfish professor cleared his throat, "Now, someone explain what that was all about." 

"We were leaving History, Professor Flitwick, when Jaci started insulting poor Patricia's parentage. Then, as though that wasn't enough, she attacked me and set that mage on Patricia. Felanne was trying to break up the fight." 

And nothing Jaci said could convince Professor Flitwick otherwise. Witnesses had to admit that Jaci had thrown the first punch. "Jaci Grassick, Hannah Korvil. Notices will be sent to your parents, and you will be serving detention with me tomorrow morning before breakfast." 

"Yes professor," they chorused. 

"And I don't want to see you girls in any more fights. Now, come up and let Madame Pomfrey take a look at you. Come on. All of you, now," Flitwick led the way. 

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A/N: Hope it was worth the wait. Leave a review, it makes me more inclined to write. To be continued...   
  


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	6. Pride and Prejudice

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

You'll never see Hufflepuff the same again. Set in the year of the TriWizard Cup. A reluctant student comes to Hogwarts, is not a Mary Sue, and meets other OCs who are also not Mary or Marty Sues. I promise. Give it a try.   
  
DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own. 

A/N: I wish I were from Australia, but alas, I'm from the United war happy States of America. 

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**Chapter Six: Pride and Prejudice**

The mediwitch made short work of their cuts and bruises. None of them had been seriously injured in the fight. Even so, Professor Flitwick refused to let any of the girls go without a visit to Professor Dumbledore, the renowned HeadMaster of Hogwarts. Even Hannah's father had some respect for the aging Wizard. 

"Part mage," he had told her the day after she received her letter, "that's what I've heard. Don't know if I believe it, but whether he is or no, he's one of the most powerful wizards out there. An even match for any mage alive. You'll be safe there." Now, this magical powerhouse was looking up at them over a pair of half moon spectacles and Hannah would have rathered he were further removed from the short list of people her father considered an equal. His grave expression mirrored Flitwick's. Together, they made a formidable force against misbehaving children. 

Dumbledore nodded while Flitwick explained, inaccurately, their hallway battle. Hannah watched him as he watched them watching him. Her eyes soon wandered to small but intense Amber Maccon. The Slytherin leader was managing to look almost meek. Felanne, the quiet third member of their group, over shadowed her. She was confident and athletic, with sharp eyes that seemed to notice everything. To look at them now, Hannah wouldn't have considered Amber the dominant. She wondered if Dumbledore saw through it. Her father would have. But then, her father was a mind mage. 

The had quite an audience, Hannah realized suddenly. After not quite a day in this Wizarding castle, Hannah was getting almost used to seeing the moving pictures, or "lavish abuses of magic," as her mother called them. But the pictures weren't just moving. They were watching them. A few whispered amongst themselves and wandered from frame to frame. She wondered how the worked, and if they could leave the room. If they could, was it possible that they told Dumbledore what was going on throughout the castle? Though, if he wanted to know that, wizards probably had a more efficient ways of doing so. They seemed to have magical things for everything imaginable. 

"Interesting," Dumbledore murmered pulling Hannah's attention back toward him. Professor Flitwick had finished his explanation, leaving the HeadMaster to do his job. He continued watching them for a moment longer. _Step one,_ Hannah thought, trying to meet his oh so very dissappointed grandfatherly blue eyes, _the stare down._ She wondered idly if all HeadMasters used the same process. That was how her father always started. _Step two,_ His gaze came to a halt on pudgy Patricia Adams, _Check the facts._ "Miss Adams. You know Miss Grassik from Newark Prewizarding Academy, is that correct?" 

The Slytherin girl nodded, "Yes, professor." Hannah bit her lip. Not the sort of facts she'd been expecting. Not the tone of voice either. He was so gentle. Clearly, he believed the Slytherin story. 

"And were you friends there?" 

"I," Patricia glanced toward Jaci as though looking for an answer. Then she shifted her focus to Amber, who shook her head slightly. Dumbledore's eyebrow raised slightly and Hannah knew he'd noticed. Patricia Adams' voice went flat, "We knew each other," she told the HeadMaster. She tugged the hairband out her black ponytail. It had gotten mussed during the fight. 

"Did you ever fight in Newark's?" 

She left the hairband on her wrist, "No, professor. We did not." 

"Why the change?" Patricia pursed her lips, but didn't answer. Dumbledore watched her for a moment, making a thoughtful sound, before turning to Jaci, "Miss Grassik, how well do you know Miss Adams?" 

"Our families are aquainted, sir," Jaci replied in the same clipped and distanced tone that Patricia Adams had used. It sounded ike everyone was working together to give as little information as possible. Or lying through their teeth. Or having a surface conversation to hide a thought conversation. Except that the last wouldn't happen here. 

"Your families are acquainted," the HeadMaster repeated with nod, "You know her parents, then?" 

"I've met them, professor," Jaci confirmed. 

"What did you say about them in the corridor just now?" 

Her breathing changed slightly, "I don't recall exactly. Adams was baiting me. She insulted my House. I spoke out of anger." 

"I see," something in Dumbledore's expression changed slightly, "Is this true Miss Adams?" 

"I never said anything about Hufflepuff, HeadMaster," Patricia Adams, the paradigm of indifferent innocence replied. Even Hannah was almost convinced. 

"You seem certain she means her Hogwarts House, yet she has been in Grassik House all of her life. Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed," Dumbledore mused, "Miss Grassik, you do realize that attacking other students is against school policy?" 

"Yes professor." 

"And, Miss Adams, you understand that all the Houses warrant your respect and consideration?" Patricia nodded reluctantly. Hannah's heart skipped a beat when Dumbledore looked at her directly, and then at Jaci, "You two have detention with Professor Flitwick. Your parents will be notified and two points will be taken from Hufflepuff," pause, "I will be watching the five of you very closely." _Last step: the final warning gaze,_ the forgotten train of thought reasserted itself. She hoped she never had the opportunity to fill in all the steps she missed. 

Flitwick shooed the first years out, down the stairs, and into the hallway. The little professor had barely disappeared back into Dumbledore's office before Amber Maccon squared off with Jaci again. 

"A shame no one stands up for a Hufflepuff troublemaker," she tisked and turned and walked back down the hall the way they'd come in. Patricia and Felanne fell in behind her. Amber Maccon glanced back at them and motioned for them to follow if they dared. 

Jaci stepped forward as Amber flashed her teeth and rounded the corner. Hannah caught Jaci's arm and shook her head. She tugged a pinch of Jaci's robe as though a little momentum was all the other girl needed to go the other way. 

Jaci looked down at Hannah, eyes cold, almost steely. It sent shivers down her eyes pupils all the way to her toes, like lightning being grounded to the floor. Hannah let go of her robe, "Sorry." So this strange Slytherin creature was Jaci as she was. Not Jaci as she acted. Hannah stepped back, staring. 

"Trust me," Jaci whispered. There was nothing to trust in a casual tone like that. She looked so arrogant and superior, just like them. Hannah took another step back and shook her head. Before she knew it, she was running down the hallway. Away from the Slytherin girls. Away from the HeadMaster and professor Flitwick and all their wizarding ways. And most of all, away from the girl she'd thought could be a friend. 

She took the first hallway she came to and stopped. Maybe Jaci would change her mind, yet. 

For a moment, there was nothing. Only silence. Then Jaci's footsteps faded down the hall the other way. The blonde daughter of Slytherin had gone her own way. 

Hannah sank back against the cold stone castle wall in relief. Even if Jaci had gone with her, it wouldn't have changed anything. Not after that Look. Had that been contempt? Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. What did it all mean? Was the Sorting Hat wrong? 

Of course the Sorting Hat was wrong. Further way. She needed to get further away. Keep running. 

But Jaci had said, "Trust me." What was that supposed to mean? Was that an underhanded apology? Hannah sank to the floor. It was nice and cold and she was hot and sweaty. Ever since the Slytherins had shown up, Jaci had stopped making sense. Last night she hadn't been like this. She had been quiet, not commanding. She had been just another girl. She liked bunnies and wildflowers. And after the girls had stayed up talking most of the night, and gotten through Potions lab with Professor Scary... then Hannah had let her go to face the Slytherin girls alone. 

Who knew what they could do to her? 

But Hannah was a Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs weren't supposed to be brave. It was okay not to be brave, for a Hufflepuff. Bravery was for Gryffindors. She did what she did because it wasn't like her to go looking for trouble. It was okay to be scared, okay to run. Bravery wasn't in her nature. Running was. Hiding was. 

Right? 

Hannah cringed and climbed to her feet. Two days ago she'd thought Hufflepuff might be a kind of stuffing, and now she was making excuses based on some Hat's idea of where she belonged. She ran back down the hallway the way she'd come. Past Dumbledore's office. Down the corridor the way the Slytherins had gone. The way Jaci had gone. Stupid hat. Stupid Slytherin pride. Stupid Hufflepuff loyalty. 

* * *

  
A/N: To Be Continued....   
A/N2: What do you think?   



	7. Falling is Like This

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

You'll never see Hufflepuff the same again. Set in the year of the TriWizard Cup. A reluctant student comes to Hogwarts, is not a Mary Sue, and meets other OCs who are also not Mary or Marty Sues. I promise. Give it a try.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: A bit long awaited, I'll admit. I hope to have the next chapter, after this one, out in less time than it took me to get this one out. Which means I've got over a year to work with! Woohoo! Hope it was worth the wait.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Falling is Like This**

Whatever happened in that hallway didn't last long. Hannah heard shouting, but all she found was Jaci standing alone, staring down nothing but empty corridor. She was too late to help. Was it rude to feel relieved?

"You came back," Jaci observed without turning. She sounded surprised, but less than impressed. And, Hannah noted uneasily, somehow, less than thrilled.

Her heart had already been beating hard from running through the corridors to catch up. Now, it pounded with uncertainty. "I thought," Hannah tried, _you might need my help?_ As though she hadn't just proved how useful she could be by running away, and her change of heart was useless now. Who's to say she hadn't watched whatever had happened--obviously not much had, though-- and waited to come out until it was all over. A new direction, "I didn't know," _if you'd be alright?_ Jaci was many things unknown, but known was that she could stand her ground without help from Hannah --"I wanted," _an explanation._ But Hannah wasn't sure she wanted to know. Eloquence was obviously not her finest skill today. She swallowed back the beginnings of six more half baked thoughts for the most important one, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Jaci said in a tone that somehow managed to blend stoic sarcasm with hysteria, "Today my friends. Tomorrow my father. When the mail comes...," she forced a laugh, "but I'm fine. Just fine."

_What do you say to that, anyway?_ Hannah wondered. Several reassuring but useless nicities played through her mind. She dismissed them but she felt she had to say something. Tomorrow morning the mail would arrive with news from home. For her, that probably meant a nice little note saying how her mom had made it back from the train station with minimal hardship and some vague tidbits about her father and brothers getting ready for resuming classes at Holyoke next week.

For Jaci those letters would be very different. One of the girls from the train--their names were quickly blending in with all the other names she'd been told so far--had mentioned that some students got howlers from their parents when they got in trouble. Howlers, she remembered, were wolves that jumped off letters. They literally bit your head off, so you had to walk around for weeks without one until the spell wore off. Frightful.

"Do you think you father will send a howler?" Hannah asked. Whatever she was supposed to say to Jaci--well, that wasn't it.

To Hannah's relief, Jaci shook her--for now--very well attached head, "Howlers aren't really my father's style." She seemed to be pulling herself together. A forced smile pulled at her lips, "Strange thing for mage spawn to know about, isn't it? I thought your people prided themselves on living like muggles?"

"Muggles with House Elves and trips to Diagon Alley, maybe," Hannah allowed, opting not to take "mage spawn" as an insult and glad for the change of subject, "We don't have alot of this stuff. Howlers I heard about on the train. What I don't get is what you would do without your head."

"What do you mean?"

"They bite it off!"

This time, Jaci really did smile, "Very funny. Come on. We'll be late for Charms."

Hannah, bewildered, followed half a step behind.

* * *

"Now," Professor Flitwick announced once he finished the rolecall and a brief introduction, "Today we will be learning a simple spell. I am passing around a box of feathers, you are each to choose one and wait for my instructions." 

Owen Caudwell picked a big spotted feather and handed the box to Hannah. After a moments indecision, Hannah set a small fluffy brown feather on her desk and Jaci took a sleek black one. The box moved on down the line until everyone had a feather.

"_Wingardium leviosa!_" Flitwick said and, with a wave of his wand he lifted his feather in the air. It made a quiet little hum that wasn't quite there that lingered even after Flitwick released his spell. "Repeat after me: _Wingdarium_," he paused to get a chorus of approximations of the word, "_Leviosa_."

"_Leviosa_," repeated the class.

"_Wingardium leviosa._"

"Very good." A few repetions later, Flitwick announced it was time for everyone to take out their wands.

Hannah's was still in the nice hinged box Olivander had put it in. She set the box on her desk and flipped it open. Next to her, Owen set his wand carefully in front of him and Jaci held hers loosely, whispering, "Wingardium leviosa."

The last time Hannah touched her wand was in Olivander's shop. It hadn't liked her much then and she hadn't given it much reason to like her any better now.

"The motion is simple," professor Flitwick explained. There was more humming now than before, "Swish and flick. Swish and flick."

Cautiously, Hannah prodded her wand. It didn't seem like it was going to bite her, so she picked it up.

It started slowly at first. Red, like last time, swirling up through her fingers into her hand. That was where it stopped last time. Up, up, up to her elbow. To her shoulder, and tingling down her spine to the floor. Past the floor. Through the dungeons, into the earth. Further. Deeper. Into the molten core of the earth.

"Swish and flick."

_It's just grounding_, she told herself, _It's okay._

"You alright?" Owen was asking, his wand was in his hand now. Swirling just like hers, down, down, down. Her arm was numb. She nodded. The swirling was everywhere.

"Come on, Ms. Korvil, swish and flick. _Wingardium leviosa_."

She waved her wand and flicked it, but was too distracted by the sparkling energy vibrating up her arm to remember to say the words.

"Wingarduim leviosa," Jaci swished and flicked and a spout of glittering popped out the wands tip to roll the feather over. The hum was getting louder. Now that she knew the feeling, it was everywhere. Whole classes with their wands at ready. Classes waving them and intending things to happen, bringing their inner magic out, draining the extra.

"Earth to Hannah?" Owen's voice, Jaci's hand. Hannah tried very hard to concentrate. Too many out of place particals. "You dropped your wand."

"What?" Hannah looked down. Jaci was holding out her wand to her. She recoiled, "Just put it in the box." The almost Slytherin exchanged a glance with Owen before placing the wand in. Hannah snapped it closed.

It didn't help.

_They think I've gone mad_, Hannah thought, but her attention was quickly arrested by one of the Ravenclaws. The same swirling, but a swooshing built up as Stewart Ackerly's particals danced dangerously fast.

Swish, "Wingardium leviosa!" And flick! Hannah covered her ears as a crashing roar of rolling magic filled the air. Feeling like she was caught in a wave tumbling toward the shore, she let her ears go to grab her desk before she fell over. The feeling didn't ebb. When she looked up, it seemed like she was seeing the world through a reflection in a stirred up pool.

It was too much. She closed her eyes. Falling, falling, falling.


	8. Mixed Nuts

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

You'll never see Hufflepuff the same again. Set in the year of the TriWizard Cup. A reluctant student comes to Hogwarts, is not a Mary Sue, and meets other OCs who are also not Mary or Marty Sues. I promise. Give it a try.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Thankee for pointing out typos. They've been fixed!... I think.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Mixed Nuts**

_Washed up._ The waves still rolled, but she wasn't in them. Up was up. Down was clearly down. Blinking, the lights didn't swim quite as much as before.

It was almost calm.

A mental search revealed two living bodies in the room and a class of wandwavers far enough away to ignore.

In the space of a blink, a face materialized two feet away, and a cold hand went immediately to her forehead and retreated just as quickly. The face--it was a woman's--was moving oddly and buzzing. Strange thing to do. But why would Madame Pompfrey be buzzing?

A lower buzzing responded. Maybe it wasn't buzzing. Things were starting to come together now. A kind faced old gentleman leaned over and smiled at her. Dumbledore. Yes, that was his name. What on earth was the Headmaster doing here? She smiled back.

And now that she thought of it, "here" was somewhat of a mysterious place. There were other beds. Madame Pompfrey, being the school nurse--or whatever the wizarding folk liked to call their school nurse--belonged in a place like this. Hannah did not. In fact, Hannah had made it a personal goal of hers to stay away from these sorts of places. That was twice today--for both seeing Madame Pompfrey and seeing Dumbledore--assuming, of course, that today was still the first day of classes. Oh, now they were offering her something in a glass? It was in her hands. Cold. Liquid. Clear. Oh, right. Water.

The wandwavers downstairs were putting their magic sticks away.

"Here" must be Madame Pompfrey's office. That seemed a pretty fair deduction, but it made her think about the word "hear" as well. If the people weren't buzzing--which they seemed to be doing quite a lot of--then they must be talking because that's what people tended to be doing, at least in her experience, when they moved their mouths like that.

She ventured a sip of the cold, clear, liquid she liked to commonly think of as water. It occured to her, as it slipped smoothly down her throat, that when you hear you do so with your ears and right now she wasn't paying too much attention to hers. Now that she thought of it, in fact, she could really do with paying somewhat more attention in general.

"Buzz she, bu bubuzzbuzz, buzz to be buzzbuzzing," Madame Pompfrey was saying. This must have made an awful lot of sense to Dumbledore, because he nodded and smiled at her again.

Hannah smiled back.

"Buzz burry," he said, "Everybuzz is buzzing to be fine."

"Everybuzz is buzzing to be fine," she repeated. Yes. Good. Most sense she'd heard all day. She took another sip of her water. Why was she already sitting up when she woke up?

"Ah, buzcome buzz, Hannah. Do you rebuzzbur what hapuzzed?" the Headmaster asked. It seemed important.

_Do I remember what happened?_ she filled in the missing spaces, _I don't know, do I?_ "Um." The day started with Potions. She needed to copy someone's notes about the cabinate organization because she couldn't write it down and understand at the same time so she managed neither one with useful results. Then was History of Magic with the ghost teacher. Then the fight in the hallway, the trip to the nurse and then to the Headmaster's office and chasing after Jaci and getting to Charms late, but then professor was late too so it didn't matter.

"It's alright," Dumbledore started to stand up.

"No, no. I _do_ remember," Hannah wracked her brain as he settled back down. It was something in Charms and had something to do with why she knew someone was practicing a spell in the courtyard, "It was the--the wands."

He sunk back down, "The wands?"

"Yes. They made everything spin."

"The wands did?"

"Yes."

"Did someone curse you using a wand, perhaps?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"No, no," they weren't believing her, "It was just the wands. And the spells made it worse."

"What were the words of the spell?"

"It was one we were learning. _Wingardium leviosa_."

"Hannah," Madame Pomfrey insisted seriously, "Professor Flitwick has been teaching that spell for longer than I've been here. It could not have caused you to break down the way you did."

Dumbledore nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "Tell me, Hannah,do you know why mages don't like wizards?"

"Why?"

"Well, if you think about it, you'll find you already know."

_Yeah, wands make mages go nutters_, Hannah concluded, "Does that mean I have to leave?"

"That is up to you."


	9. The Wand

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

You'll never see Hufflepuff the same again. Set in the year of the TriWizard Cup. A reluctant student comes to Hogwarts, is not a Mary Sue, and meets other OCs who are also not Mary or Marty Sues. I promise. Give it a try.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Keep an author going: Comment; react; question.

A/N2: This chapter is dedicated to my little brother who's been on my back about getting it out. You can read his story--A Series of Unfortunate Events fanfiction--at the username "danieli".

A/N3: dhrelva --please add to the Tragyls and Twelve Again. I miss Harris and Clarence.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: The Wand**

Headmaster Dumbledore turned back, hand on the door handle, "I do not think that your father was unaware of what you would face here. Knowing his respect for wizardry, it may well be that this is what he sent you here to learn. The question is, are you up for the challenge?"

It was apparently one of the Headmaster's think-about-this questions, because he gave her a significant look and closed the door behind him. She sighed heavily, but then wished she didn't because Madame Pompfrey had noticed and she had an overwelming need to explain, "Adults are forever pretending I have choices where I clearly don't." _So much so that I believe I have used that exact sentence before._

The nurse gave her a knowing smile, "What would have been your choice?"

"Well, I never wanted to come here in the first place," the line jumped to her lips from weeks of persistance. Yesterday-was it really only yesterday?--thought it had wiped it clear out of her head, but it was wrong. No Hogwarts meant no Slytherins to fight with in the halls--not that she didn't have her own bullies waiting for her at Holyoke--and no friends with questionable loyalties. At Holyoke there would be no kids staring at her tiara and making her feel self conscious about it. Most importantly, there wasn't magic gone wild anywhere in Britain like there was at Hogwarts. Then again, she shrugged, "But the mashed potatoes are good here."

"Well, mashed potatoes are important. And that's the dinner bell going off now,"-- Hannah didn't hear it--"I'll let you go now. But," Madame Pompfrey stopped her halfway to her bookbag, "You promise me next time you come to me _before_ you've gone senseless."

"But I'm not sick." _You can't just walk out of class when you're not sick._

"No one said you were. But until you figure out how to get through a Charms class without--well, if you need to get away, I can at least send a note to your teacher. Got it?"

"Yes," Hannah grabbed her bag and--

"Don't forget your wand."

"Thanks," she tried to sound like she meant it. It was on the floor in the box. She took a minute to throw the box in her bag--the farther away from her the better--and trudged off toward the Great Hall for dinner.

Yesterday, Hannah would have been worried about getting lost. Today, the Great Hall seemed impossible to miss. It was alive with activity: floating candles, ghosts, and students showing off their new talents. When Hannah finally reached its open doors, she could barely see into the room. At least one person had messed up a spell and sent waves of magic to every corner of the room. The odd thing was, it was all contained inside so it looked somewhat like she was looking into another living painting, abeit a very expressionistic one.

Being hungry, it seemed, was not going to be good for her mental health today. _Breakfast,_ she promised herself as she savored the smell of good food, _As early as possible._

* * *

"Fredrick the Cabbage," Hannah tried again. The portrait of Rik Kingsley shook his head impatiently. "Buzzle Wuzzle? Liz the Lettuce?" 

"You've tried that one already," Kingsley pointed out, tapping his foot, "Along with Linel, Larry,Lucy, Linus, Luther, Lucious and Lex--all of the Lettuce family. And, while I'm sure they are all very happy to be remembered, don't you think it's time you go back to the Great Hall and ask someone for the password?"

_No,_ "Carry the Cabbage, then."

"No. Ah! Mister Wagner, was it?"

"Yes, sir," Nick Wagner replied, not three feet behind her. Traces of magic from the Great Hall still hung around him, as did a general smell of food-- garlic, perhaps. He looked at her and glanced away, "Oh, hey Hannah," he stammered, "Are you, uh, feeling better?"

"Yeah," Hannah nodded slowly, trying not to watch the tendrils of magic disappate, "Things have stopped swirling." _Mostly._

"Good," Nick nodded too.

"Yep."

Picking up her backpack, Hannah waved Nick ahead to Kingsley's portrait. His eyes widened, "You forgot the password?"

"Very thoroughly," Kingsley piped up. Hannah resisted glaring at him only because he was an adult.

"Oh. I--I'm sorry," Nick said, looking at his feet, "I guess I'd have forgotten too."

Hannah had a sudden mental image of what Madame Pompfrey wanted to call a 'break down' must have looked like to her classmates. She had been in class with a girl who had a seizure once and everyone was really freaked out. She tried to remember where Nick had been sitting, but she hadn't noticed. Maybe she was being paranoid, "What do you mean?"

"Um," he glanced around, looking, Hannah noted, everywhere but at her, "I thought you meant you forgot because... um." Nick closed his mouth.

"Because of what happened in Charms, you mean?" Hannah prompted.

"Yeah."

"Oh, no. . . I just always forget things," Hannah stepped further out of Nick's way, "but if you remember the password, then we can go inside."

"Oh. Right. Um. Fubby Wubby."

_Oh yeah,_ Hannah's memory finally kicked in, "Fubby Wubby the cabbage."

"Mandrake."

_Same thing, isn't it?_

The door to the deserted Hufflepuff common room opened and Hannah followed Nick inside. His eyes darted toward the boys dormatory, "I gotta go start Char--_Potions!_-- I mean, I gotta go start the _Potions_ homework."

"Yeah. Me too," Hannah said.

"But first," Nick clarified, "I gotta write my mom a letter," he was backing away now, "Oh yeah. Um. I'm glad you're okay. Just, uh, stay that way. Later!" He all but ran up the stairs to the boys dorm.

"Thanks," Hannah bit her lip, watching his retreating back, "I think."

She trudged up to her own room, which was blessedly lacking in weirdness. Hopefully, it would remain that way once her roommates returned from dinner. In the meantime, Hannah hefted an armful of textbooks onto her bed. But, unless there was a spell to keep magic _away_, the texts seemed somehow irrelevant.

_If I can't get a handle on this, my grades won't matter,_ she decided, moving the books back to the floor and pushing them under her bed. _Now what?_ It had all started with the wand. Before she touched it, her sense of the elemental had grown steadily with her ability to use it. And now... well, now was now. _But it wasn't the first time I touched it._

Why hadn't this started in Olivander's shop? She tried to recall the details. Reaching for the wand. Holding it. The way her arm tingled. The first time, the wand hadn't grounded through her. She had been blocking it somehow and it had been angry with her for it. _Possible, I guess. Only one way to find out._

The wand stirred. It knew she was coming for it.

Frozen, hand inside the bag, Hannah's thoughts raced. "The wand chooses the wizard," the old man at the wand shop was famous for saying, but once the wand was in a wizard's possesion it was treated as a tool. That didn't mean it wasn't more than a tool. How much did she really know about this thing?

Slowly, Hannah pulled out the box. _I should put it under the bed and tell my parents I lost it and I want to go home._ She hesitated. Was it her own longing to hold the wantagain--to figure out what happened--or was that coming from the wand? Why was she closing the bed curtains? When did she open the box?

Her fingers closed around the wand. She gasped.

It was the wand. It was definitely the wand.


	10. Draining Water

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

You'll never see Hufflepuff the same again. Set in the year of the TriWizard Cup. A reluctant student comes to Hogwarts, is not a Mary Sue, and meets other OCs who are also not Mary or Marty Sues. I promise. Give it a try.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Keep an author going: Comment; react; question.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Draining Water**

The wand seered through her. Not literally, but close enough. Down down down. Again. It wasn't as shocking this time. She forced her eyes open and looked as hard as she could in the dim light at the closed bed curtains. The wand was pulsing through her as it fed on the Earth's energy, turning itself and her into a sort of magic electrical outlet waiting to be tapped. It felt like one long static shock from throat to stomach, over and over again. But the blasted wand wouldn't let her let go.

She did the only thing she really knew how.

The wand was in flames in an instant. Big blue flames, bigger than any she had ever made before. It was almost enough of a wonder to lessen the nausating feeling of energy rushing even faster through her. With that, the wand let out a yellow puff of glittering dust and extinguished the flame. It wasn't even scorched.

Then it spouted out random magic. Not a spell. Just raw magic. Bringing it through her and out into the room. She might have screamed, but it was so loud she couldn't be sure any sound came out at all. Her body felt on fire. Up was down, and down was sideways.

No. Down could be down. She followed the wand's grounding cord to the earth. Down was down. She threw out her own cord and braided a third in and then a fourth, desperately sending the energy back where it came from. Just when she thought she had it covered, the free floating energy outside her started whirlpooling toward her.

She couldn't even see the curtains anymore. _Down is still down,_ she reminded herself, and threw down more cords. If she let go of down now, she would loose it. Down was important. Down was steady.

Down was bringing the tail of that tornado straight to her.

Hannah threw up her hands--as though her hands could do anything--against the incoming storm.

But it didn't hit.

She blinked. Bending around her hands by the force of the whirlpooling magic was something Hannah could only describe as a wall of nothing. And it was holding.

The tornado calmed and became a cloud. The wand, still in her hand, continued to pour magic out into a river beyond her wall. But it was stuck in the wall and in a few minutes she managed to wrestled her hand free.

River slowed to stream, to creek and stopped.

* * *

Hannah had figured out her walls enough to modify them to encompass her area of the room, and move the wand out of the way enough so no one would walk into it. She was just trying to figure that out when she noticed a very faint buzzing. 

Roommates talking. She'd almost forgotten about them. How long had they been hiding somewhere on the other side of the wall? She tried pushing it back further--so she could see the whole room--but she was afraid if she made it _that_ big it might pop like a soap bubble.

"Buzz buz buzz buzbuz buzzuzz," someone else said. It was louder now that she was listening. Eleanor Branstone came through the wall. A dusting of magic evaporated from her like snow on warm pavement.

Eleanor buzzed a question to the two moving blobs, presumably Jaci and Laura. Based on whose bed was whose, Hannah could even tell which was which. But now Eleanor was asking her a question. Waiting for a response.

"Sorry?" Hannah asked. To her it sounded more like, "Buzzy?" but Eleanor seemed encouraged. She repeated her question. Hannah rubbed her eyes and shook her head. Nothing useful. She couldn't keep the wall up and concentrate on her ears at the same time. Something, among many things, to work on.

Eleanor noticed the wand, floating two feet above Hannah's dresser, "Buz buzz, buuz a buzz." She took a step towards it and looked at it from different angles to see if it was really floating. "Bu buzbee buu buzz?"

"Buu buzz?" Jaci asked, coming over. Eleanor responded by moving out of the way for Jaci and Laura to see. Hannah watched them wearily. Laura Madley flicked a glance at her.

"It's stuck in the wall," she told her, "Leave it there."

There was more buzzing Hannah didn't bother trying to figure out. But when Eleanor reached out to touch it, Hannah was on her in a heartbeat; grabbing her by the shoulders and knocking the unsuspecting girl to the floor.

"I said don't touch it!"

"Hannah! No!" she could almost make it out. Laura was yelling it practically in her ear and she and the almost Slytherin were pulling her away. They let her go when she stopped struggling. She rubbed her ear. Eleanor was staring at her, eyes wide.

"It _wants_ you to take it out," Hannah panted, "It's a bad wand." She couldn't hear herself saying it and that only made her explanation feel all the more rediculous.

Eleanor glanced doubtfully at the offending magical stick, "Buz buz buz?"

"A bad wand," Hannah repeated, guessing at what the question might be. It was just hanging there looking all innocent and trapped in the wall, _Don't give me that. You know what you did. You are a bad wand._ To her roommates, she warned, "It's trying to kill me. Stay away from it."

"Buzzbu? Buzz buzzy. Buzzz buz buu buzz," Jaci looked concerned.

Hannah pursed her lips for a moment, watching the magic pound against her wall. Tearing it down would not be a good idea. Jaci was still watching her when she looked back, though the others had gone back beyond the wall. _I guess I've been missing a lot today,_ she thought.

The part-Slytherin was still waiting for a reply. Hannah gave her an "I don't know what to say" sort of shrug and climbed into bed, closing the curtains behind her.

* * *

_CLATTER!_

Jaci looked up from her Potions text to see Hannah's wand rolling across the floor. Laura and Eleanor exchanged glances.

"Well," Laura said, "I guess she's asleep."

"I guess," Eleanor rubbed at her sore shoulder. One didn't expect someone--particularly someone as small and out of it as Hannah--to attack. "Do you think she'll be better tomorrow?"

"Unlikely," Jaci hate to burst their hopes, but if Madame Pomfrey had sent her back here then there probably wasn't anything they could do for her, "They'll probably send her away."

Laura shook her head, "To Saint Mungos, you mean? That's--"

Hannah screamed.

There was a second where none of them moved. Then, Laura volted out of bed and pulled back the mad mage's bed curtains. Jaci was close behind, with Eleanor hanging back. Hannah was curled up in a fetal position, crying. Her eyes were closed.

"Hannah. Hannah, wake up!" Jaci shook her, "It's okay. It's a bad dream. Hannah!"

Hannah eyes fluttered open and widened at something somewhere inbetween Jaci and Laura. Part of Jaci had believed it was just a bad dream, despite the falling wand; But it didn't seem to be getting better. "Down," the mage panted in between sobs, curling up tighter, "down down."

Laura backed away, "I don't know what to do." Her hands were shaking.

"I'll get a prefect or someone," Eleanor volunteered and ran out the door. In Jaci's estimation, it was unlikely that whoever came would know what to do either, but she could have kicked herself for not thinking of it herself.

The mage squeezed her eyes shut and hid her face behind her hands. Jaci found herself wondering if she should be afraid of that piece of air as well. She hoped she didn't look as scared as Laura did.

"You know," Laura said, probably to fill the silence with something besides Hannah's unrelenting seizure--if that's what it was, "I don't think she's going to be okay tomorrow either."

The door banged open again and Niobe and Cedric--the two prefects--finally arrived. A few of the other students congregated outside the open door to see what was going on. Jaci had a sudden urge to tell them to go away. What she did do, though, was move out of the way so Niobe could get in closer.

"I don't think we should try to move her," Cedric told Niobe.

"We don't need to. Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey are on the way."

No, Hannah probably wouldn't even be here tomorrow.


	11. Pretend

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

This is the story of a girl--or perhaps two--who came to Hogwarts and were sorted into Hufflepuff. This is a story written about Hufflepuffs, by a Hufflepuff. After all, we Hufflepuffs are more interesting than you think... read on and you will see.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: It takes me hours to write a chapter. It takes you seconds to review it. So, come on, do your part and let me know I've got readership!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Pretend**

"Wake up, girls!"

Jaci rolled over and pushed aside her bed curtains. The prefect girl--Niobe--was leaning through the doorway waiting for some signs of life. Laura got up and opened a window. The fresh September air felt good.

"Eleanor, you too," the prefect said. Eleanor mumbled something unintelligable and Niobe closed the door behind her, satisfied that the girls would make it to breakfast.

It had been a long night. Jaci had stayed up until they gave Hannah a sleeping drought and a sedative and was sleeping almost peacefully. At that point, Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout told them to go to bed, too and went down to the common room to talk. Niobe stayed to watch Hannah.

Sometime, hours later, Jaci had woken to Cedric--he had apparently taken over for Niobe--carrying the mage away while Professor Sprout held the door.

It was all almost enough to make Jaci forget to dread the morning mail.

Day two of her own humiliation had begun. She donned her uniform with only mild contempt for the Hufflepuff crest and colors. It could have been worse. It could have been Gryffindor. The hat had given serious consideration to putting her there. It seemed to think she was brave. _But with just a bit too much common sense, thank goodness. I got off easy with Hufflepuff._ There was, of course, no way her father would ever be consoled with _that_ explanation. And no way he would ever find out about it either.

She waited for Eleanor and Laura to finish getting ready and followed them downstairs. The weren't a very talkative lot this morning.

But everyone else seemed to be. Hufflepuff House was abuzz with questions about homework, anticipation for the day's new classes, and--most bothersome--people trying to figure out what happened after lights out in the girls dorm last night. Someone had heard Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout talking in the common room, and others had noticed the commotion before lights out. The prefects were exhausted, but keeping quiet.

Of course, they knew that it was the first years' room, and they knew Eleanor had been the one to come running down the stairs demanding, "I need a prefect!"

"Eleanor!" Kevin Whitby was the first to approach them, "What happened up there last night?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Eleanor said, somewhat more curtly than neccessary. Kevin glanced at Laura, who shook her head. He darted a glance at Jaci, but it held no question. He'd been a bit nervous around her ever since she'd glared at him at dinner for saying something bad about Patricia Adams. It was comforting to know that despite having the wrong badge, she could still do her family proud.

Or, at least, it would have been comforting if she thought they would notice or it would matter. Being able to control weak minded Hufflepuffs with a look seemed a dreadful waste of her upbringing. There was no challenge in it. Not only that, but they didn't understand that it was part of a game so then she just ended up feeling mean. Feeling mean was most unSlytherin-like.

Mean had it's upsides, though. Eleanor and Laura were getting barraged with questions from the first year boys and she wasn't getting any. Her roommates could use lessons in being unapproachable.

"Come on," she interrupted, putting her hands on Laura and Eleanor's shoulders, "We'll tell you all at the same time, in brief, at breakfast. Let's move." And move they did.

The Great Hall was waiting and the food smelled comparable to home. Jaci's stomach gurgled with anticipation, but she ended up not really wanting any of it once it was already on her plate.

"Are you going to tell us, now?" Owen asked pointedly. Jaci nodded and the seven Hufflepuff first years huddled in over the table.

"I'll do it," Laura said. Jaci kept an eye outside the circle. This would be the stuff of delicious rumors at the Gryffindor table by this evening, she was sure, but her own House deserved to know what actually happened to their fellow Hufflepuff.

"It was Hannah. She had another breakdown and they took her away." It was brief. It was to the point. And--since they had all been present in Charms the day before--it required little explanation.

"Is she coming back?" Owen wanted to know.

"We don't know."

"What's wrong with her?"

"We don't know that either," Eleanor said, "but when we got back from tag last night she was acting really strange. Her wand was floating and she freaked out when I tried to touch it. She said it was stuck in a wall and trying to kill her."

"Is that possible?"

"No, but that's what she said," Jaci said, putting an end to the stream of details, "We don't know what's going on, but it's very serious so don't go telling everyone about it, right?" She fixed them with a look, especially Eleanor. _If you do, I'll know it was you and I know at least the general vicinity where you sleep._

Each of the other students nodded. They would keep Hannah's secret for now--probably more out of fear of Jaci than any real loyalty to the mage. Or, maybe she was just cynical. _Mage spawn don't belong at Hogwarts_ aside, the Slytherin felt kinda guilty for freaking the poor girl out before. And, if nothing else, protecting Hannah's reputation could at least distract her from the most dreaded thing of all.

"Look. The mail."

_Nevermind on that last point._ Her father's rare blue faced owl stood out among the others not because of its blue face, but its sheer size. After dropping a boxy package into her lap, the bird glided away again. Somehow, it managed not to hit any other birds in the process.

"Showy," she sniffed, but there was no heart in it. With a final glance at her fellow Hufflepuffs, Jaci strode out of the Great Hall with her package. Yesterday, while playing tag with the other first years, she had scouted out a bench by the lake that would be a suitably private place to open this package. Two feet out of the hall, she broke into a run.

When she reached the spot, she tore open the box by stabbing the tape with the butt of her wand. Oddly, it held only a sheet of paper.

_Daughter_, it read, _Your grandfather's condition has deteriorated further and I fear your unfortunate choice of House may put him over the edge. Your mother and I have spent all day calling in favors to keep this quiet, but I fear it is impossible. I suggest you write to your mother immediately to apologize for all the heartache you've brought on her. Deeply Saddened, Your Father._

Heartache. Grandfather's health. Deeply saddened. Of all the reactions her father could have, this was the one Jaci had feared the most. Anger would have been easier to deal with. She carefully folded the letter as her stomach wound itself in an uncomfortable knot. _He thinks I have done it on purpose,_ she stared out over the lake, the weight of familial guilt resting heavily on her Slytherin-intended shoulders, _And the worst part of it is . . . I did._

* * *

It was empty here, whatever here was. Nothing to see, feel, smell, or hear. The place was not and was at the same time, which was intensely interesting for about two seconds. Now, Hannah was bored. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten here or how to get back. 

Once or twice she thought she heard her brother or her parents calling to her, but for all her screaming they didn't seem to hear her. But they said useful things anyway, like, _It's going to be okay,_ and _when the new potion is ready they're going to let you wake up all the way._ And that, at least explained some things.

So she pretended she was in her bedroom at home, making a pretend picture of Hogwarts for her older brother, Phil. But mostly, she just waited, pretending to hug her pretend knees and trying to pretend she was not bored. Sooner or later, something would happen. It had to.


	12. A New Game

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

How many Hufflepuffs does it take to change a lightbulb? Two. One to change it and one to share the spotlight.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed our foray in to Jaci's world. I gave serious consideration to calling that chapter "Interlude" in fitting with the Concerto theme in the title. Maybe I'll go back and change it when I fix up some of my horrendous repetive wordings in there. shudder I'll proof read better this time.

But those are minor details and for now I shall concentrate on moving forward. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: A New Game**

_Welcome back._

Hannah blinked. Nothing seemed different, but the fact that she could blink was kinda neat. She did it a few more times to be sure it was real. _Why can't I see anything?_

_Because you aren't looking correctly,_ her brother Phil said in his mindspeak, _You're looking right at me. I'm that big out-of-focus blur. See? I'm waving._

_Where?_ This was all terribly confusing. She blinked again.

Then something happened. Something was different.

_Peekaboo!_ Phil said, making everything go back the way it was before. He laughed at her expression. Weirdo. He did it a few more times. It was just starting to make more sense when their mom scolded him. _Oh, come on, mom, I was just trying to help._

_Leave her alone, Phil,_ mom said, _She can adjust just fine without your help. Out!_ And Phil was gone.

Hannah blinked a couple more times and realized that it had the same effect as whatever Phil had been doing. She enjoyed that for a little while, but after awhile her eyes got harder to keep open so she kept them closed for awhile.

When she opened them again the room was dark and fuzzy, but very clearly there. It was her own bedroom, at home. She could hear footsteps in the hallway and a dish clanking downstairs. Something was weird about that. They were quiet sounds. She hadn't heard quiet sounds since . . .

Since Charms class. Flashes of a tornado of magic coming toward her came to like scenes from a far away bad dream. With a start, she notice the complete lack of any feeling sensation. Well, sure she could feel her toes and arms and legs and all that, but that really wasn't the same thing. The earth, the particals around her, her own inner energy: They simply gone. There were no traces of magic anywhere. Not to be seen, nor heard; tasted nor touched. It was as though they had never existed.

Maybe it _was_ all a dream. Except that if that were true, she'd been hallucinatingp--at least to some extent--all her life.

She jumped out of bed. Two steps toward the door later, she was on the ground. Dizzy. She waited until the black spots cleared away before trying again. It took altogether too much effort to get up, but this time would have been more successful anyway--really, it would have--if her mom didn't choose that second to open the door and flip on the lights.

"You shouldn't be out of bed yet, young lady," she chided, cresent tiara gleaming in the lamplight. Hannah leaned on the back of her desk chair for balance. Perhaps it was just well her mom had come to _her_. Getting back too the bed might be a problem in and of itself. But more importantly...

"Mom," she tried really hard to keep her voice from squeaking, "Why can't I _feel_ anything?"

Beckoning, her mother sunk down on the bed. She looked older than Hannah remembered her being. "Do you remember the wall you put up in your room at Hogwarts?"

Hannah nodded, taking her mom's extended hand. With a bit of help, she managed to climb back onto the mattress. Whatever the wall had to do with anything was a bit vague. There was no wall right now. And the wall she'd made couldn't have blocked her mage abilities.

An explanation would come eventually. Hannah tried to be patient. After all, her mother's family had been all mind mages growing up; she'd had mind mage friends and mind mage teachers, and so, she had rarely had need of translating thoughts into words before Hannah was born. Sometimes it took awhile. Sometimes, her mom even gave up and had to have Phil tell her things.

The process invaribly took longer when Hannah was impatient.

"When the wall broke--" her mother said at last, sending Hannah a mental image of water whirling down a bathtub drain-- "you were the drain. And more and more water kept coming from all around. There was nothing we could do but stop it up. There was a time," she continued before Hannah could think of a question, "when being an elemental mage--like you--was seen as a mental illness by the wizarding community. The potion they created to treat it is what you are on now.

"And when you go off it, the tornados will come back."

Hannah swallowed her demand to go off the "medicine" at once. It made her stomach turn that wizards could view her gift as a problem to be solved. Even so, she wasn't brave enough to face the magic again. _This isn't a matter of not being brave, it's a matter of not being stupid._ The potion was giving her the chance to be just a kid rather than a mage struggling to cope with everyday existance.

Though Hannah strongly suspected these thoughts were not her own, she tentavitely decided they had a point. At least until she got the chance to think about it for herself. Still, if this was such a good thing, this being normal, why was it almost as scary as the tornado?

"Does this mean I'm not a mage anymore?"

"Only time will tell. For now, I think you should be thankful that you are still _Hannah_," As her mother kissed her forehead, Hannah noticed for the first time that her tiara wasn't there anymore.

_I guess I'm just a wizard now._

* * *

A/N1: I'm going away for the weekend. Next part will be Tuesday night at the earliest.  
A/N2: _It's sound crews that don't like hearing feedback: Writers thrive on it._


	13. Professor Sprout

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

READ THIS -> Hufflepuff Concerto now has a companion story! It is a story about the Ravenclaws and it's called Raven's Eye View(by Amican). It's just been started, but it looks quite promising after just two chapters. You'll find it on my favorite stories list. Hannah might make an appearence there, and the main characters there, Tom and Richard, will likely make appearences here. Very cool.

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Considering my year-long forray away from this story, no one should have been worried that I wouldn't return after only a month or two of waiting, right? Anyway... I had some trouble figuring out my approach for this chapter but it finally worked out after four or five drafts. Here we go!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Professor Sprout**

White ceiling. White curtain. Daylight from window. Hospital. 

_Not again._ Before she knew it, she was sitting up, heart thumping wildly. It was happening again. 

_My name is Hannah. Hannah Leslie Korvil. I live at... at... 34 Rosecliff Way, North Holyoke._ To her relief, the information came easily. 

A medwitch happened to choose that moment to pop in. "Everything alright?" she asked with some concern. 

"Yeah," Hannah nodded, trying to instantaneously look more calm than paranoid and confused, "Fine. I just forgot where I was, is all." She rubbed her eyes. _I am at St. Mungos. They put me under to test my magical profile or something. The test is over. I am awake now. Everything is okay._ She felt silly. 

"It's alright," the medwitch smiled sympathetically, "A lot of people are afraid of hospitals. I used to be." 

"I'm not afraid of hospitals," _I'm just afraid of waking up in one and not knowing who I am._ Once was enough for a lifetime, thank you very much. They had said she'd remember everything in time, but she really hadn't. She had a few vague things to go on here and there, but it mattered less after a few years. Most people didn't remember too much from before they were five anyway. 

That had been when her older brother, Phil, was still developing his mind abilities, and he didn't know how strong they had grown when WHOOSH! Suddenly his "weak minded" sister didn't know she was his sister or how to tie her shoes anymore. 

Come to think of it, her younger brother was getting to be about that age. _No wonder mom and dad think Hogwarts is a safer place for me than home, despite recent events._

The medwitch picked up a folder of papers, and called for her parents. Hannah ran her fingers through her unbraided and therefore messy hair. Her dad in his regal black velvet HeadMaster robes grinned in a way that didn't match them at all. He popped his head in first and grinned in a very daddy-like way, "Hey, look who's awake!" 

"Daddy! You made it!" Hannah grinned back. 

"He _just_ got here," her mom said lowly, ducking into the room around her husband and giving Hannah a conspiratory wink. 

"I just have perfect timing," HeadMaster Korvil defended himself, mocking his own on-the-job serious persona, "Besides, I couldn't miss seeing my little girl off to Hogwarts twice in one week!" 

_To Hogwarts..._"So I'm clear?" Hannah had a sudden urge to bounce around the room and hug anyone who got in her way, medwitches included. No more St Mungos! The last week had been nothing but tests and appointments with this medwitch, and then that one, who would give a referral to a third, who eventually sent her back to the first. It seemed like it would never end. All she needed a doctor's note to return to class. She'd already missed a week. 

"All clear," Mrs Korvil confirmed, "Arrangements have already been made to meet Professor Sprout in Hogsmeade tonight at 7 o'clock." 

"Which only leaves one question," HeadMaster Korvil smiled, "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

* * *

No more St Mungos was good. It was so good, she couldn't tell you how good it was. But going back to Hogwarts was quickly seeming more and more iffy the closer to 7 o'clock they got. By the time 7 o'clock actually did roll around, Hannah was trying desperately to remember the names of her roommates and only coming up with Jay-something with two syllables and an L-someone. Or maybe it was El-someone. There were two besides the blonde Jay-something and the three of them had sent her a get-well-soon card. Now, as she sipped butterbeer with her parents in the Three Broomsticks, she wished she had brought it with her so she could check it again. Maybe she could try to ask Professor Sprout before they reached Hogwarts. 

A week of classes was going to hard to make up. She didn't even know what most of the teachers looked like, and it couldn't have been a good first impression by missing her first classes with them. Of course, they probably were told what happened-which was even worse. They would all want to be really nice to her at first and not push her too hard, but then get frustrated later on when she wasn't ready for the end of the year. It was like starting at Holyoke all over again... only at Holyoke she'd been there for a good three or four months before the memory accident with Phil, so she'd had more to relearn. This time she didn't have to relearn anything. Just catch up. 

Of course, the amount they teach you when you're five and the amount they teach you when you're 11 is somewhat different. 

And then there was the wand... No. It was definitely better to think about school work. 

Charms. 

"Is that Professor Spout?" her father asked suddenly. Hannah looked up from where she was scribbling a frantic to-do list on her napkin, and followed his gaze towards the door. _How would I know? I only met her once._ The friendly-looking middle aged woman stopped searching the Three Broomsticks when she spotted Hannah. Hogwarts robes were easy enough to identify and there weren't many Hogwarts aged kids floating around Hogsmeade when school was in session. 

"Yeah, that's her," Hannah told him, as the woman manuvered her way around tables to get to them. Hannah still only sort of recognized her as someone she might have seen before. Her parents stood up to shake hands and Hannah belatedly followed suite, though Professor Sprout didn't try to shake her hand. 

"Master and Mrs Korvil, Hannah," Professor Sprout greeted them enthusiastically. Ah! The voice did the trick. Yes, this was definitely Professor Sprout. "How was your trip?" 

"No complaints," Mr Korvil laughed, "we're just happy you could meet us on such short notice." 

"Me too. We're very excited to have Hannah rejoining us," Professor Sprout turned her attention downward, "Glad to see you're feeling better." 

Hannah nodded. The butterflies in her stomach didn't count as not feeling better. 

"Hannah," Mrs Korvil said suddenly, "Why don't you pick out a song on the jukebox." She handed her a couple coins and pointed to the far corner of the room where there was an old magic music box. Hannah reluctantly took the hint to let the grown ups talk about her like she wasn't there by actually not being there. 

The jukebox, as her mother had called it-being more familiar with muggle terminology than wizarding in most cases-had a whole lot of songs she didn't know. She recognized some of the more popular bands, such as Hag's Rag, Big Bad Niffler, and Vile Vials, but their names was also where the familiarity ended. There were some muggle bands too, but not too many, and Hannah was just as clueless about their music as the wizarding bands. She chose one song by the Samhain Seven but got her money back when she realized she might have enough coins for a chocolate frog or, if she were brave, a box of every flavor beans. They'd passed a sweet shop on the way in. 

She went back to the table and got permission to run next door. 

"Alright. Take your time, sweetheart," her father said distractedly, handing her more coins. 

_It must be my lucky day!_ she thought, reaching the still open sweetshop. The owner looked at her out of place Hogwarts uniform a bit suspiciously, but didn't say anything. Luckily, reporting wandering students wasn't his job. 

Hannah had been thinking of a chocolate frog, but now that she was here and looking at all her choices she couldn't decide. Was it better to go with something she knew she liked, or try some new? Or was it better to save the money and get something better later? 

Ten minutes later her parents wandered out of the Three Broomsticks and Hannah hastily decided that Every Flavor Beans she could at least share with her roommates whose names she couldn't remember and bought those. Her parents gave her a questioning look, to which she happily displayed the first box of Every Flavor Beans she'd ever bought. She felt very brave. 

"Are you ready?" Professor Sprout asked, looking at her slightly differently than before. Her parents probably told her Professor about her-very much made up by her parents-"history of memory issues" since the original accident. She glared knowingly at them. They played innocent. Now it would be much harder to ask Professor Sprout about her roommates' names. Forgetting names of people you'd just met was _normal_. Not remembering names of cabbages or historical dates, doubly so. 

"They're paranoid," Hannah hastened to assure her professor as soon as they'd left her parents behind, "Whatever they told you-" 

"They just wanted to make sure there was a proceedure in place in case the potion looses its effectiveness," Professor Sprout explained. 

"Oh," Hannah closed her mouth. _Who's paranoid now?_ "So, is there?" 

"Yes," she said and helped Hannah into a horseless carriage that it moved like there _was_ a horse. Maybe there was, but it was invisible or, more likely, maybe it was just enchanted that way. Professor Sprout hopped in behind her and the carriage started off. 

"Are you ready to be back?" Professor Sprout was eager to talk. She probably didn't get many oportunities to have her students cornered like this. 

"Yes and no," Hannah replied truthfully, "I mean, I feel okay. But..." 

"Scared?" 

"Yeah." She hugged herself and looked out the window where the castle of Hogwarts peered over a big black lake, "Is that where we crossed?" 

"Yes. And there's the train station over there," Sprout pointed, "And that up there is the Whomping Willow." The willow was busy whipping flies so even in the twilight it was easy to see what the Herbology professor was pointing to, "It has an infestation of mites so it's been extra aggressive lately. It's starting to clear up, though-And there! That's the Quidditch stadium. I don't suppose you got a chance to take a look at it?" 

Hannah shook her head. Investigating the quidditch field hadn't been on her top priorities last monday. 

"It's an impressive site," Sprout assured her. 

After a short pause, Hannah leaned back in seat again and got down to business, "What did I miss in Herbology last week?" 

The Hufflepuff Head of House smiled as though this was her favorite subject-which it probably was or she wouldn't be teaching it, "You missed an extremely interesting introduction to the class, one of the best I've given-which you'll have to ask your classmates for notes on-and a tour of the greenhouse, which you can make up a quick version of after class one day. I'll be repeating pieces of it in more detail throughout the year for everyone because I don't expect you all to remember everything the first time through." 

There was a hint of something in that last sentence that seemed almost to say, "Unlike others I could mention" and Hannah smiled shyly, knowing she was talking about Professor Scarey Man's confusing and overwhelming tour of the potions ingredients cabinate. 

The carriage came to a stop. 

"Um. Professor Sprout?" Hannah said before her Head of House could reach for the door. She was painfully aware of how her voice just rose about two octaves and it was pretty high to begin with. She swallowed, and tried not to wring her hands, "I'm really bad with names and I feel really bad-" 

"Jaci Grassik. Eleanore Branstone. Laura Madley." 

Hannah sighed. Yes. Those names were definitely the ones. "Thank you." 

"It's alright. You've had a long week." 

Professor Sprout gratiously also didn't assume she remembered how to find the common room, what the password was, or the names of the prefects. They stopped to check in with Madame Pomfrey before heading up, and when the Hufflepuff common room door finally swung open- 

"Surprise!" All of Hufflpuff House was there to greet her. Hannah blushed furiously, ears red as her hair, and had a sudden urge to hide behind Professor Sprout. But the teacher had moved back so she was standing alone in the middle with everyone looking at her. Everyone was grinning, and she was giggling. And she was way too embarrassed to stop giggling. She barely even knew these people. 

"Welcome back, Hannah!" the prefect from the train-Niobe-stepped forward, and the circle collapsed around them. Everyone was trying to ask her if she was alright, or introduce themselves or just say "hello and glad to have you back" all at once. And then, it got even better because there were cupcakes. 

Hannah put her hand over her mouth to try to cover her huge grin, "Thanks everyone." 

Hufflepuffs were the greatest. 


	14. Tales

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Foster the Passingly Mentioned belongs to Amican.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Tales**

The Hufflepuff common room soon cleared. Professor Sprout had been one of the first to go, leaving Hannah with the promise of seeing her in Herbology first thing in the morning. The other students trickled out one by one, retreating to the quiet of their dorms to get some last minute homework done before turning in for the night. For one reason or another, most of first years stuck around until they could get Hannah to themselves. Noteably absent was Kevin Whitby, who ran off earlier-but not without making a point to tell her he'd stick around if he hadn't caught two extra essays in Potions: one for being late, and one for using too much toe of frog.

"How was I supposed to know the difference between a pinch and a dash? Honestly! It's not like he explained it, anyway," he grumbled a little more, threw his hands in the air and ran up the boys' staircase.

"He hasn't been having a good day," Owen Caudwell explained as his footsteps faded, "He got a howler from his mum because he mentioned his Transfiguations quiz grade."

"But," Eleanor Branstone cut in, rolling her eyes, "if hadn't told her about it, she never would have known. It's not like it's a big part of the grade."

"I sure didn't tell _my_ parents," Owen agreed, wincing at the memory of it. Laura Madley chose that moment to take a seat on the big yellow couch. Suddenly there was a stampede, headed by Eleanore, to see who else would get the comfy seats. Jaci reigned victorious for one side, and Owen got the last spot on the other by launching himself over the back of the couch. Hannah belatedly joined them, choosing a nice spot of floor next to the two boys who's names she wasn't sure she'd known to begin with. Jaci, as a couch winner, threw her a black and yellow striped pillow to sit on, which somehow earned her a stuck out tounge from the closer of the boys on the floor. Owen Caudwell threw the further boy the other pillow.

"Hey!" complained the tongue boy.

"Aw, poor Nicky," Eleanor teased, but pulled a blanket out from under Laura and tossed it at his head. Hannah had to duck out of the way to keep it from landing on her, too, and creating a two headed blanket-ghost. When Nick burrowed out from under it, his hair was standing on end.

While Nick bunched up the blanket into a cushion, and slid it under him, Hannah slid herself a little bit away. It seemed like everyone was pretty well aquainted now, after just a week. "Okay," she asked, "so, what did I miss?"

"Jaci tried to dye her hair!" Laura nudged the blonde girl, who glared back. Now that Hannah was looking closely, Jaci's ponytail did have a slightly greenish tinge to it.

"I did not try," Jaci shot back, "I obviously suceeded. At least something of mine did something."

"In Transfigurations on Thursday," Nick explained while the others argued about whether or not turning your own hair green could be considered an accomplishment, "we got to do our first basic transfiguration lab. The assignment was to turn a piece of blue fabric into a piece of green fabric. Jaci's fabric didn't do anything, but her hair turned bright green," he held his hands out as though the amount of green could be measured that way, "It didn't even start fading until today."

Hannah grinned, but tried very hard-for Jaci's sake-not to laugh outright at the mental image. Poor Jaci! She seemed to be coping surprisingly well.

"You should have seen McGonagall's face-"

"-and Snape!" Owen added, delighted to take a shot at Professor Evilman. He drew himself up and looked down at everyone not on the couch, then turned to Jaci but despite his valiant effort, he couldn't keep a straight face.

"Ms Grassick," the boy on the floor next to Nick took over in an unamused tone, "I sincerely hope you don't plan to dye your robes as well."

"Alright, that's enough," Jaci quelled that topic before it could go any further. She looked pointedly at Owen, "And then there was DADA."

"Oh yeah," Owen scratched the back of his head, mussing up his already messy brown hair, 'I'd forgotten about that."

Laura explained, "In our first DADA lesson, Owen was so scared of Professor Moody-" Owen made a protesting noise, "-that he screamed and fell out of his chair-"

Hannah caught a movement to her right, and suddenly Nick was right in front of her face, crazed eyes wide bellowing, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" with a finger pointed in the air.

Hannah yelped and was halfway across the floor before she had time to process what had happened.

"You see! It's not just me!" Owen exclaimed over the laughter. To Hannah, who was cautiously coming back to the circle, he said, leaning further forward with each word, "Now imagine Professor Moody leaping halfway across the room-"

"He didn't leap."

Owen shot the still giggling Nick a dirty look, "He did. He leaped. Leaping halway across the room," his attention was back on Hannah now, "with his regular yellow bloodshot eye aimed right at YOU, and pounding on your desk" he demonstrated by pounding one hand in the other with each syllable, "screaming CONSTANT VIGILANCE right in your face, just like that!" He straighted himself up and observed clinically, "There was nothing else to be done. You would have fallen on the floor screaming and passed out too."

"Well," Jaci commented, mocking his tone-which ironically, had been similar to her own when she was defending herself-"I suppose we all know why Owen isn't in Gryffindor."

"I'm really okay with that."

"Oh yeah?" Nick challenged, though it had been himself who had been the one who'd really wanted Gryffindor.

"Yeah," Owen shuddered, "they'd never let me live it down. Especially that Michael Foster kid."

"Who says _we_'re going to?"

"Well, Nick, I don't know about anyone else, but _you_ are going to because if you _don't_ I won't let you live down," he paused dramatically, "The Flying Lesson." Nick's eyes widened.

"I'm scared of heights!" Eleanor and Laura whined simultaneously, clinging to pretend broomsticks, and then burst out laughing when they realized they'd jinxed. It was Nick's turn to turn red, but he didn't deny the incident.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, "You're off the hook this time."

It was a brilliant evening right up until they marched up to their respective dorms. Hannah stopped short a couple feet from her bed. Everything seemed to be in order, just as she'd left it. Even the wand was still laying on the floor.

Giving it a wide berth, Hannah took the wand case off her dresser and managed to use it like tweezers to get it inside without touching it. Much to the odd looks of her roommates.

"You know, Hannah," Jaci observed cautiously, "You're going to have to use it again, sooner or later." Hannah nodded doubtfully.

"Bring it to Herbology tomorrow," Eleanor suggested, "You could have Professor Sprout check it out before Transfigurations."

"Yeah, okay," It was a plan. It didn't take into account the fact that no one aside from Hannah honestly believed there was a problem with the wand, but it was something. Professor Sprout was a teacher and she would know if it was safe or not...right? And, anyway, with Transfigurations-a wand intensive class-looming over tomorrow afternoon, there weren't many other options.


	15. Flashbacks

**Hufflepuff Concerto**

DISCLAIMER: That Harry Potter Universe and Characters are not, alas, my own.

A/N: Kinda a weird chapter... posted around 4pm. I'm revising it now.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Flashbacks**

Professor Evilman gave her a long suspicious look before continuing on his way down the hall. It was the worst kind of look, the one that said, "I know you didn't do your homework." Hannah shuddered. She could only thank her lucky stars she still had an hour break to copy down the notes she'd missed. But first, she needed to find a prefect.

She searched the great hall and the astronomy tower, but Niobe and Cedric were nowhere to be found. She'd even stopped and asked a blue cat which way it was to the prefect's office, but the cat took off faster than she could follow it. It's prints lead her to St Mungo's hospital and a nurse there insisted on taking her temperature. All the other patients were screaming, and when she looked over, she saw why: There was a magical tornado coming at them.

She ran, but not fast enough. The tornado became a wave looming over her. Every step was an effort. If only she could run fast in her dreams. She fell and clawed at the ground, but it was just sand and she was getting sucked up by the undercurrent. Nothing else seemed affected. Where were the prefects?

_In my dreams... this is a dream._

But she was powerless to end it. Hannah tried to remember other dreams where she'd managed to escape this limb slowing fog, but nothing came to mind. Ahead of her was a branch. If she could just get a hold of it. She reached...

Her fingers just managed to touch it. They slid against the smooth, polished wood. And held.

_Yew. Seven and a half inches long. Suspended in midair._

The wand burned against her skin, but she couldn't let go. It wouldn't let her. Professor Flitwick shook his head - his beard was strangely green, "Swish and flick, Miss Korvil. _Wingarduim Leviosa. Wingardium-_" The wand was grounding. Swirling-

"Hannah..."

swirling-

"Hannah!"

Someone was shaking her. Hannah's eye's flew open, suddenly aware of her racing heart and rapid breathing. Jaci - whose hair wasn't very green at all this morning - pulled back awkwardly. Either she hadn't gone to bed yet or she had already donned her Hogwarts uniform for the day.

"Bad dream?" she asked after Hannah's breathing slowed.

"Yeah," Hannah confirmed. It was quickly slipping away, too, "Something about quicksand - or was it the ocean? - and Flitwick swishing and flicking... What time is it?"

"Time to rise and shine," Jaci managed to make the phrase sound more like a point of fact than the enthusiastic mantra of an overzealous morning person. And she was right. The first bits of morning were just starting to peer through the window. Soon, their other roommates would be waking up and, Jaci was quick to point out, "You may as well get up, and beat the morning shower rush. "

Hannah let herself be persuaded. Anyway, there was something about waking up in a cold sweat that made showering an extremely tempting idea. However, "soon," as in "soon everyone will be getting up," Hannah was sad to discover once she was washed and fully awake and looking at a clock for the first time, turned out to have the clause, "if they are stubbornly determined to be the first people in the Hall for breakfast" attached to it.

And, as Hannah followed Jaci down to the deserted Hufflepuff Common Room, she made a mental note not to trust her pureblooded roommate the next time she claimed it was time to get up. Even the Great Hall turned out to be closed when they reached its massive doors. Jaci led onward, then, giving Hannah a quick tour of the academic areas of the castle.

"The dungeons are down there. That's where we had Potions class," she gestured away from the downward staircase and down the hall, "that way and to the left, up the staircase and toward the right is Transfigurations. We have that after lunch. After breakfast is Herbology is in the greenhouses," Jaci launched into a complex array of directions which Hannah didn't even try to follow. They had gone down maybe five hallways and two staircases and she was already uncertain she could find the Great Hall again.

They turned another corner and there it was.

_The hall was blazing with color. Tendrils of spells as the other students showed off their newfound abilities over dinner, bounced here and there, making the large doorway look like an expressionist painting. The thought of walking in, magic all around, touching her skin, pressing against her so she didn't know which was the floor, filling her vision, pounding out the sounds of even the loudest noise..._

"What is it?"

The Great Hall. Hannah shook her head. There was no magic screen this time, it was just a doorway into a large room lit by an enchanted ceiling - the likes of which her mother would have staunchly disapproved had she been there. _Perfectly normal for Hogwarts. Nothing to be afraid of._ Adjusting her backpack, she braced herself as she followed Jaci over the threshold and into the dinning room.

Jaci stopped short, causing Hannah to almost walk into her. They weren't alone. A single figure was watching them from the table with the green and silver banners above. Slytherin.

Jaci glared back at the girl for a minute before walking dilberately toward her. Hannah was still trying to figure out who it was. One of the girls from their year, one of the ones from the hallway outside the HeadMaster's office, surely. Which one? She couldn't remember their names or faces.

She didn't particularly remember what had happened either. It was all a blur of fists, hair, and angry voices. She tried to work it out as she reluctantly followed Jaci towards the Slytherin table. She stopped a few paces away, giving the girl a good three meter radius and the big table between them. Her green haired friend - it looked greener in this light - knelt on the bench across from her and leaned in, elbows on the table.

"You're three days early, Patty."

"It's Patricia," the girl corrected. _Adams,_ Hannah's memory supplied belatedly, _Patricia Adams._ Her eyes flicked to Hannah - or perhaps the door behind her - uncomfortably, "I heard she came back last night. Make it quick."

Jaci stood uncertain for a moment, then turned toward her, "Hannah. Your wand."

"What?" Her heart pounded fiercely.

"Your wand," Jaci repeated, "Give it to Patty -"

" - Patricia. - "

"But - " Hannah fumbled with her backpack, sliding it off and moving into their circle to rest it on the Slytherin bench, "but I don't - " she lost her train of thought as the zipper stuck. "- Professor Sprout hasn't -" the stupid zipper, "- what?" Jaci took the bag from her. In one quick motion it was open. Patricia was watching the Hall doors suspiciously.

"Quickly," Jaci urged as she tipped the bag back in Hannah's direction.

Hannah pulled out the wooden box with shaking hands and placed it on the table. With two fingers, she slid it halfway across to Patricia Adams. She drew back slowly, "What -"

Jaci put her finger to her lips, leaning over to whisper, "She's Olivander's granddaughter."

Adams took the wand out, holding it with a bit of cloth, and squinted closely at it, turning it slowly from this position to that. Hannah found herself reaching out with her mage sense to see what else was happening in her seven and a half inch long stick, but she only felt the barest hint that the sense had ever even existed. A memory of an existence, was all it was.

After a few minutes, Patricia carefully touched the wood with her fingertips and closed her eyes.

_She's a mage, too,_ Hannah thought.

"It's definitely an Olivander wand - or if it's a forgery, it's quite good," Patricia said, opening her eyes at last, "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it on the surface, but I'd still have the professor look at it. Just because it's one of his doesn't mean it couldn't have been tampered with." She placed the wand back in the box and slid it back to Hannah.

"Thank you," Hannah said quietly, not knowing what else to say. Patricia's gaze was fixed on Jaci.

"I wasn't here," she said suddenly.

"We didn't see you here," Jaci replied.

"Good," Patricia nodded curtly and started walking away.

"Bye, Patty!" Jaci grinned and waved.

"It's Patricia, get it right or I'll call you Jasilope!" she growled, spinning around, walking backwards, spinning back around again and running out of the Great Hall. Jaci giggled. Hannah wasn't sure why.

* * *

Jaci was nice enough to let her copy the Herbology notes over breakfast. It was quiet, and she soon became so absorbed in them, she barely noticed when the other students came around. It was all about the different plant classifications and different qualities of each. There must have been a lot of notes, too, because she had barely finished when Jaci pulled notes away saying, "You can finish later. Time for class." 

"I'm done, anyway."

The first year Hufflepuffs left the Great Hall as one, trudging through the castle and across the grounds to the greenhouses. A couple Gryffindor boys ran out a few paces behind them and caught up to walk with Nick Wagner and Kevin Whitby.

"Hey Nick," the Gryffindor said as Nick stiffened perceptibly, "We heard about Flying class."

Nick reddened and kept walking, hugging his books.

"Scared of heights, Nick?"

"So what?" he yelled, just a little too loudly. Hannah wanted to hang back and hide, but the others were moving forward so she did too. They broke into a run. Running away, all together.

"It's a Hufflepuff stampede!" Michael Foster and his buddy laughed loudly at their backs.

They regrouped in the greenhouse, all huffing and puffing. It was a nice airy classroom, with desks and chalkboard set up in front, and a greenhouse lab area behind.

She didn't notice Professor Sprout until she asked, "Is it that Gryffindor again?" Hannah spun around to see her behind a flat of flowering plants, "I told his Head of House about him. I'll make sure I find a reason to take Gryffindor points from him. Okay, Nick?" She winked.

"Thank you, Professor," Nick grinned.

"Oh! Here they come," Professor Sprout went back to picking casually at her plants, smiling to herself. The seats here were arranged in threes, rather than twos. Hannah usually sat next to Jaci, but today Jaci had decided to sit inbetween Nick and the Gryffindors. That left one one seat availible next to another Hufflepuff: center front, next to the boy who's name she kept forgetting.

"Hi," she said shyly, putting down her bookbag and slipping in beside him. The other Gryffindors arrived and that boy from the boat came over to her.

"Hey! You're back!" he grinned, taking the seat on the other side of her, "I'm Dennis, remember?"

"Yes. You fell into the lake."

"Yeah!" he beamed with a far away look at the memory, "That was great. What was St Mungo's like?"

"Uh," Hannah opened her mouth, then closed it again, "What makes you think - "

"Everyone's heard about it. So... did they brainwash you?" He leaned forward, ready for what kind of tale Hannah didn't know. And what did he mean by _every_one.

"No -"

"Of course you'd say 'no' if they did."

"Dennis..."

Class started eventually. Hannah opened up her two pages - only two? - of notes copied from Jaci. They were in her handwriting, but somehow she couldn't remember having written them. The notes she'd written - she thought - had the classifications set up significantly different. She tried taking notes, but didn't understand well enough to make them make sense.

"One common way of identifying if an unknown plant is magic is by spreading revelleserum on its stem. We will be using this method in lab later today. Michael Foster," Professor Sprout said sharply, "How do you find out if an unknown plan is magical?"

"I don't know."

"Thirty points from Gryffindor," Professor Sprout announced, "For paying more attention to your classmates than the lecture. Dennis Creevey, your chance to redeem your House."

Dennis swallowed, "You spread revelleserum on the leaves."

"Fifteen points to Gryffindor," she nodded, "Tom Prewett. What are the five catagories of magical plants?"

"Um," Hannah heard someone behind her flipping through his notebook, "That was last week, right?" More notebook flipping.

"Anyone? A guess Hannah?"

_She recentered her silly little snowflake charm on her forehead as another student read outloud, "Jason said, 'Why d-don't you wan-ant to play with me?' The big beer - big bee-ar. Beeahr." Eleven words. She carefully counted them out on the page. _

_"Bear," teacher suggested. Teacher's name was forgotten again._

_"Big bear said, 'B-beessay-besays - " _

_"Because. Good work, Robby. Hannah, why don't you continue?" A moment later. "Hannah?"_ Which one is Hannah?_ she wondered, glancing around. Teacher was looking right at her,_ Oh, that's my name. She means me_, she told herself. It was a hard name to remember. Hannah. She always forgot. Why couldn't she have been named something easier - Jen, now that was easy. It rhymed with hen and lots of other words. Lots of people were named Jen. Her lips made a little, "oh" and she nodded slowly, looking back down at the book. She had been pretty proud of herself for just being able to follow along based on word length and spaces. The letters themselves looked familiar, but what they meant she didn't really know._

_"Because," she picked up where they left off, "Why." _

_"Sound it out." _

_"W-o-uuoo." _

_"What sound does a Y make?" _

_"Wwwa." _

_"No, Hannah," teacher said, "Yyya." _

_"Yyya," she repeated, heart beating faster. Why did teacher call her that? She didn't know that word. What did 'Hannah' mean? It was hard to remember what was going on - but she did it. Better than last week. Last week she forgot she was at school and got scared. Sound out the word using the new sound. "Yyyaaooh-uuhhh." _

_"Good, now say it faster." _

_"Yohuh." _

_Teacher nodded, "You." _

_"You," she licked her lips. Where did teacher get "you?" from "yohuh"? _Must be one of those strange letter tricks like from before in - in that other word that had one._ The other students were looking at her now. She could feel their eyes, all wondering what was wrong with her that she couldn't read a word like "you" or remember teacher's name. Next word, "ahhnnnn -" _

_"It's not an N. What letter is it?" _

_"Um." Not an N? Had she heard of that one before? Her hands were shaking, fidgetting. She tried putting them flat on the book to make them stop, but they wouldn't. What did her mother - no, teacher - what did teacher want? The letter. Right. The letter that was not an N. She had seen it before, that was for sure, but then, she had seen all of them. This one was more common than some of the others, though, but not as frequent as the vowels. She was taking too long._ I should know. Everyone else knows. I should know, too._ She made a wild guess, "T?"_

_"No, Hannah. It's an R. Do you remember what sound an R makes?" _

_She shook her head. _

_"Do you want to make a guess? No? Okay, just keep trying, Hannah," teacher said gently, "You're doing much better." _

Hannah shook off the weird sense of deja vu as Professer Sprout finished asking her if she'd like to make a guess. She shook her head. She didn't remember the original question now and she wasn't about to ask. They would think she wasn't paying attention or that - that she . . . forgot things. Like she used to.

Time passed slowly. There were more notes to take, and more questions to answer, but Professor Sprout didn't ask her again. She looked like she might, once, but Hannah shook her head slightly and so she'd asked Marcus instead.

If anything, paying attention became more difficult once Professor Sprout lead them into the greenhouse. There were so many distractions. "Hannah," Professor Sprout said at one point - she'd caught her watching a bug, "Why don't you come over by me so you can see better."

"Okay."

And that had helped. _After class_, she told herself, _After class_.


End file.
